Twilight rain
pours down on the Faces of reality
blurring their sharp edges,
making their gaunt faces bleed-
Thunder rolls from the West
piercing the city with its battle cry-
the city shudders as loathing intoxicates everything
lighting darts across the sky
warning the inhabitants of Real when Thunder will strike
the eerie flashes
cast sinister shadows throughout the land-
when the Dream leaves, the city of Real
is no longer clear
no longer exact
and not so confident anymore
the Faces inspect the damage with bewilderment
frustrated eys- blind to the strangness
of Different
unaccustomed to its bright glow