THREE DREAMS

BY

MATTHEW SOAMES

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Last night I had three dreams.

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In First Dream, my eyes did see

A Techno-City of astounding beauty.

Dark was the sky, darker the architecture;

But bright were the lights, electric by my conjecture.

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Inside one Techno-Building did I lean

Against a wall, primarily unseen.

Then my love did stare at me,

And turn her head – to walk out on me.

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She left me in that building,

Her pace steadily quickening.

But I, having given up before,

Knew that, should she leave, I'd end my life for sure.

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So I followed her, 'cross streets and roads

A mere seed in a pouch, aching to be sown.

Finally, having almost caught up with her

She descended to the Subway – an Angel among sinners.

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In Second Dream, my feet did take me

Down those Subway stairs to find her and calm me.

Descent into a world of sin and dark

Was the last thing I'd expected – perchance a park?

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No park, no park – two dark doors did I see,

Omniscient and dreadful, 'twas clear they would kill me;

Or, at the very least, change me

In ways of sin, of sight, of sound – the soul'd be free.

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Despite the gloom o'er shadowing it,

Make my way I would, into the first room's pit

For, my reasoning told me,

She must be down here – she's my candle lit.

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The first door was heavy, but moveable nonetheless

Howe'er, horrific sight inside rendered me breathless.

In a room tiled but grimey, a figure neither stood nor sat

And, truth be told, his eyes were those of a cat.

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Those eyes, oh, those eyes

Were all't could be seen of his face –

Mask most perfect he'd fashion'd in place

In a manner all knowing, wise.

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Some sin personified, made concrete

This figure reminded me of, staring most discrete.

Scream I could not, but then I took notice

Of the blood flowing out from his cloaks (quite like a lotus).

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Depart from the first room I did,

To rub most intensely my confused eyelids.

But, gods of gods, more figures came flocking down,

Descending upon me – as if duty bound.

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Rush through the second dark portal I most assuredly did,

But sight worse than the first my eyes were witness to, kid:

These figures, veritable phantasms by their identical dress

Were in throes of passion, with young female partners – and knifing them dead.

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Why girls so young, so full of chance?

These phantasms wondered not, as they continued their dance

With death, plunging both member and knife

Into such sweet young women, robbing every one of them of life.

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Against the walls the phantasms did pound

Their partners – with little sound.

But, hark: shrill cries rang out

From a door labeled VIRGINS ONLY, ALL OTHERS OUT.

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Depart I did from this desolate place

Of the phantasmous sins with perfect face.

God of gods, where could my love be found?

Here now – neither of us shall be found.

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In Third Dream, my debtor I did owe

An antique most exotic, but hardly was it thrown

From atop a steep building,

In that Techno-City – city of sin and of sinning.

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My debtor, the black bearded tyrant

Demanded collection – else my head in a jar

Depart I did from his company – and traveled far

In search of said artifact, hard to find – hay in a stack of needles.

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The artifact simply could not be found

But ready I was, tight and wound

When I stared my debtor straight in his face

Only to run away, out of the place.

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Strangely enough, I ran not only out of his house

But out of his existence – and into my youth

In my High School Halls, where gazed I did

Upon my love, my love – who'd lead me to corruption, to death.

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Endeth now this account of mine dreams

Which frightening some, will give cause for long screams.

They knoweth not, though, the exact shape of that mask

Which still haunts me – tearing me out of my dreams.