A True Story

When I was a sweet little boy,

Not yet caught,

In the midst of a dream,

Playing games with friends,

I heard a call from a tangled maze of hedges.

I entered and was lost,

Until I came to the center,

And there I met Him.

Smiling he gazed upon me,

Any questions?

I simply said no,

I didn’t have any,

I have to be going now,

They’ll wonder where I’ve gone.

He looked a little sad,

And bade me farewell.

I returned,

Meeting my playmates only to awaken.

Later,

No longer that little boy,

Not nearly so sweet,

Caught in the midst of a dream,

I met Him.

He came through screens and screams,

Bared flesh,

A torrent of blood,

The cries of the world.

With me caught in the middle,

I only wanted to die.

Later,

Not a boy,

Not sweet,

Restless,

Dreaming,

I met Him.

He told me I was sleeping,

I believed him!

With a killing word,

Finally I would get my wish,

I would die.

Later,

Not a man,

A little sweet and boyish,

I met no one at all,

Dreaming myself lucid,

Comfortably in bed,

Where I always had been.

Where to go from here,

No one knows.