Dreams of a Dead Man

October 15, 2008
Here in my thoughts, all alone, I wonder.
Here in a cage without bars, in a cell without a lock and key, I dream.
Of the sun. Of its warmth striking me as I lie in a meadow.
Of my sweet, sweet Lily, and her voice that could charm the fiercest of beasts.
Of what I held dear before she died, telling me over and over again how much she loved me as she bled to death in my arms.
I dream of her because she is still with me, in my heart.
I dream of her because I could not save her.
Because I was already dead.

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