One night I had a dream
As I walked along a red seashore
A sea of the dying
In likes with the crying, a demons' galore
I turned and looked right behind me
And saw something that wasn't there before
Like a television screen
Showing a girll, truly one of a kind
It took a moment for me to realize
It was my own life playing in front of my eyes
I saw the things I had done
How truly fucked up I had become
I mutter the words "I fed the wrong one"
Thinking back on the story of two wolves
Told by an old indian man to his son
For it seemed to be the bad wolf in me who won
The good one probably starved to death
And as if that weren't enough
There were now two sets of hooveprints in the sand
Of fucking course-that's about right
I've become a damn horse in the afterlife
But then I, for real saw him standing there
Horns like hardened steel

Low key-where there should've been hair
Inconspicuously, I try hard not to stare
Looking away and fiddling my thumbs
but, with just my luck
A breeze rolled in and I tried to pretend
I didn't recognize the smell of Nair
Except I'd recognize that smell anywhere
I coughed ‘that explains the 'no hair'

I look again at the two sets of hooveprints
Then again down at my hands
Yet they are still like that of man
So why are there two sets in the sand?
That's when the menotaur chimed in
You see that TV screen depicting your life
The ease of all the grief you caused
Like through butter with a hot knife
You can see I don't walk down on all fours
I bet you are wondering why the two sets are there for.
You see, at those moments in your life my child
When you chose to be carelessly free and wild
Especially when you allowed your temper free
From anything more than just mild
Since it stands that nobody enjoys a shit show more than I do
When you see two sets of hooves in place of your foot
It was then, that I walked beside you.

© Granado.A