The Dream

Many sleepless nights ago
I dreamt of a cabin covered in snow.
Within its walls, I felt warm, secure.
What I’d find through its window would prove me unsure.

As colors danced throughout the room,
Chords of felicity soon did bloom.
The jubilee bellowed; it spread like fire.
The world through the window sat sundered like pyre.

I indulged in libations; I jabbered and crooned.
The night came and went like a bursting balloon.
Whirling in circles, we all shared a melody.
Outside, I caught glimpses of gray eventuality.

For a moment, I wondered, if time were to stop, like a bludgeoning hand to a spinning top...
Would they notice it too? Would they see there’s no door?
The window began to drip onto the floor.

The hues collapsed; the music recoiled.
Our dancing fell flat, drab and spoilt.
As the room melted hauntingly, I froze in place.
I awoke from the dream—from the window’s embrace.

This was many nights ago.
I’ve tried to forget; I’ve tried to let go.
I can still see their faces, grimaced and crass—
Reflected in fractures upon colorless glass.