Do you ever dream of death?
Of a blink-and-you-miss something “quicker than falling asleep” and yet slower than the agonising wait for the sun when you rise from slumber before the beginning of dawn.
Do you dream of dying?
A tumble down the steep hilly roads, inside your car as it lurches and soaks up a spark, before blinding you orange-or a sudden bursting thud inside you, and a final squeeze between your lungs, before all goes quiet.
Do you ever dream of after?
Red-rimmed eyes and rooms full of emptiness and ghosting memories, haunting nights and days worn with fatigue. And fiery paths of stone and blood and a reckless endlessness; and maybe-just maybe- peace.
Do you dream of death?
A handsome ol’ gentleman in a horse-drawn carriage headed to infinity. Or a winged monster swooping across the night sky-faceless and deadly. A thin slice, a tiny trickle and a blunt body on white sheets.
Do you scream, through this dream of yours? Or do you smile, just like me?
*The title has been taken from the last stanza of the poem ‘Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night’ by Dylan Thomas. My poem, albeit in a twisted way, draws inspiration from the aforementioned piece.