The Moon's Eye

(No drugs were used in the making of this dream).

His sibilant whispers were a cacophony of the mind.

It was too late I was safe in my home.

He sprang from existence, a plethora of evil was born.

He was too bored of order, strait watery order.

Lost in translation he was called ‘heinous’.

And he doomed the world to a shadow.

‘Shadow’, that word was safe, for in the shadows you are.

With the moon as his eye, moonlight became torture.

Your mind would rot, your soul was taken, lost.

He ruled the night with science beyond fathomability.

Jump from shadow to shade, trees are ‘friends’.

Lost beyond words, I watched my family die.

Die in a sense, they still breathed.

But heinous saw through their eyes, he saw through me.

The moonlight was his sight, seeing the world.

The ‘heinions’ (what we called them) were his eyes.

Time and love enter-twined, but this order was soon to be destroyed.

Heinous hated love, and was ageless, chaos incarnated.

So I’m left jumping from tree to tree, wondering of there are more of me.

Meanwhile I peek up at the moon, wondering if there’ll be a hero…