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A dream

A city, a cold city, a dead city, it's streets stained with old blood washed away by the new. The sorrowful wail of turmoil stricken wind, echoes through lonely stretching halls, now vacant and devoid of life. A cold unfeeling moon hangs in the careless night, silently serenading the shadowed metropolis. Whipping dust plays leapfrog with the empty shells of those who have met with Gabriel, strewn about in a fashionably haphazard shotgun pattern. My foot steps drop dully as I trudge through the midnight moon, the soft glow of a single flickering street light illuminates the only other living being in the city. Her silken hair drapes around her shoulders, my eyes are drawn to the glowing cherry of the cigarette pressed between her supple lips, the toxic vapor of the coffin nail billowing softly from her nostrils as she exhales. Our eyes meet as I pass, sinful thoughts rush through my mind but the terrible story written on her innocent face reminds me that I am far from safe. I continue onward, a mischievous echo haunts my foot fall, I stop but the echo continues, I turn to see the woman a few yards behind, now bathed in the moons glow, a glinting knife held loosely in her right hand struggles to bite at my flesh. Her cigarette droops depressingly as she draws in a final drag before casting the ember laden roll away into a puddle of unknown liquid. The cigarette sputters into silence "those who live know not how to" she whispers, walking toward me, my feet stay planted, her pace quickens, she lunges. The sharp clatter of unsheathed steel on asphalt pierces the night. The tears of forgiven sin stream down the woman's face as she looks up at me with a smile. A crimson river waterfalls from the tip of my sword. I lean in close and whisper a response "they may not know but they may learn" she nods in agreement as the light from her eyes fades. My sword draws itself neatly from her abdomen, her now lifeless body slumps to the ground, just another feast for time. I turn and walk away wiping the blood from my blade with a black handkerchief.

The picture fades and my eyes are greeted by the morning sun streaming through my window. Many nights I have this dream, the meaning behind it hidden from me in some dark corner of my mind, perhaps the future, or some unknown past, I may never know, of one thing I am certain however, peach and whipped cream pancakes are awesome.