A hundred years,
A thousand tears,
Sounds of death
In a million ears.
Feelings of hate,
Hatred so great,
Bring destruction
And ultimate fate.
Nothing I’ve seen
Is pure or is clean,
Nothing compares
To the darkness of dreams.
I dream of blight,
I dream of fright,
I dream of war,
As I dream tonight.
So I tell you now,
Beware, somehow
Our end is coming,
As my dream is now.

© Erick Pratt