The Bearded Man

I dream of far away places,

sitting in the sun,

blue skies and bright clouds,

floating softly overhead,

birds singing sweetly,

as might rivers flow

gently along;

then;

the dying monster

reaches out,

dragging me back down

into his pit;

he does not want

to die alone;

smiling,

he stares serenely into my eyes,

patting my head,

like the obedient dog

that I am;

“you have come far my jaded son,

walk with me just a little while longer,

and to you shall I give,

everything

in all its dark and blackened

glory;”

if you listen hard,

you can hear the buzzing

of ten billion ravenous flies,

coming

to feast on all that is,

or ever will be;

“the earth shall be rid of flesh,

freeing our rotting souls,

from these prison walls

forever,”

the bearded man

paid a visit last night,

silently

staring into the future,

he never said a word,

but the evil

hanging in the air,

smelled of fear

and death;

I awoke

in a pool

of sweat

and terror.

.

.