Dire Dream

Though I should’ve been in straits of dire,
The scene was common enough for me:
A skeleton embraced by a blaze of fire,
Overlooked by a turtle holding a key.

I couldn’t make sense of this lucid dream,
Nor where it was destined to finally lead.
This fire-skeleton and small turtle team
Trying to plant, inside me, a seed.

A prophetic warning? A future sight?
Clairvoyance, are you now my guest?
Am I in line to burn tonight?
Should I dress my very best?

And what of a turtle holding a key
That reflects the fiery flames so bold?
Is this something I’m not meant to see
Because I’m not designed to grow too old?

These are flashes that splash my mind:
Residual echoes from my placid nap.
Even though they seem unkind,
It makes me watch for any terrapin trap.

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