Once again I have awoken,
the slumber I witnessed was familiar-
Cold and recursive I am nervios for my futer,
as the past is racing to pave my path,
and to weep what I sorrow.
Again I have the dream of dying alone,
but this time a figure will peer into my room-
It too was alone but was interested in me.
The longer I cried and look into its eyes,
it gazed back.
Once again, I have dreamed this dream.
Only speculations can stoke the fires I have embued-
My dream has awoken me once more,
and forever I will be dazed.
As I sit there Alone thinking of the figure,
As a demon comes to harvest my sanity,
A slight beauty comes from this irony.
From my slumber I wake... in the cold
Alone,
and once again I have that dream.