To dream a horrible dream is of the most cruelest forms
of self-inflicted torture. He awoke unprovoked from
a night of difficult sleep unable to reason the
massive depths his thoughts entailed. He laid in bed
like a stone for hours. There was just no way to part
with the memory of the little boys face looking up
to him, as if all he could ever do to the man was beg
for his life. In the dream it was all about the boys life.
He found him left in a poor corner of a house, it was
obvious that no one even lived there. And in walking
through the misty field, where it once appeared as though
cows and horses grazed on soft grass, he realized that
in his arms was the lifeblood of the world, tucked and curled
as tightly as a newborn who has no idea what it's like to
make decisions and lacks the ability to care. Standing there
his shoes sunk in the damp soil and before arriving home,
he woke up.