I Have a Dream

I have a dream.

( Yes, monsters can dream too.)

I dream of the thunder waking far off in the bowels of the horizon. It rolls gently, as a kind reprimand to the world. The sky dressed in yellow, but not. The light through my window reeks of suspicion and the alien rays mock my mind. The earth grows quiet in obedience to Thunder’s call as it slithers nearer now. The yellow veil reveals itself more prominently and the ground trembles with anticipation, as a dame for her lover craves.

I dream that the sky bleeds suddenly and throws to the ground, it’s children in their hordes of death. Dead and dying fall they around me and the thunder screams out her victory, as a bloodthirsty Berserk celebrates the demise of his enemy. Crimson spreads from horizon to horizon and the Heavens hemorrhage as it’s angels die. The world entire, seeps and drowns as the night comes now, maroon and premature.

I dream that the earth shakes violently and shudders so, until the mountains break and the oceans grow impatient. The heavens become a black hole, feeding the rage of the tantrums the elements vent and I hear the children cry. What is your world now?

Where is your superiority over Creation now?
What matters your currencies and your petty status now?
Do you know the power of the Storm now?

Are you humbled by the sheer majesty of the Woman you rape for your mercenary gain?
Your precious metals cannot help you now. Your ego means nothing in the eyes of God. Your industries and your rank among the other maggots and leeches of your kind will fall.

You, who cut the trees from the forest’s womb and burn the Faeries’ beauty for your pleasure.
You, who would not refrain from your greed-fed destruction, lest your face be scarred with reason.
You, Mankind, the gods of nothing – the titans of filth.

I dream that mankind gasps it’s last and the human race becomes extinct. The Earth takes back what is owed and revels in the interest of it. She stomps on your kingdom with glee and smiles upon your dead babies. She drowns your empty desires and burns your mansions to the ground.
How does it feel, mighty Human?
Where is your power?
You have none.

I dream of a beautiful new world. I stroll through the city streets, barefoot and content. The cities are quiet. The machines are dead and rusting in the salt of the world. In their inept confusion, their worth nil, it matters no more which fetched a higher price, does it? Your magnificent monuments to greed stand broken and defeated. The ivy crawls onto it’s concrete prey and possesses it, penetrating it into crack and spall and drowning all memory of these sky scrapers in contempt, earned.

I dream that the sun has lost it’s power and soothes the floor with shadow and moist. There is just enough ray to feed the children of the Great Mother. Her waters are calm and uninfested by the grime that used to rule her fate.
Your kind is uncreated.
Your world is dead. Praise be heard in the ear of the Earth.
Your world is dead.