A Dream

The gravel road overcame me. The dust trailed the wagon heavy and strong. I stand at the side of the road overwhelmed with this image. The two black horses led the way to the burial ground. Reigns pulled back tightly by the white bones that grasped each leather restraint. The hood of the reaper fluctuated in the wind, glistening black with shades of silver. The wooden wheels were driven hard chipping away with each turn. In the box of the wagon the casket rattled. The color of the death crate was black. I have seen this road before. Only the place and time was different. The scenario that plays is before my time or sometime after I do not know. The dimension could only be a crossroad between life and death. The dreamstate I encountered at this time was vivid and strong. The grim reaper was screaming silently at the horses who in turn were violently running with all they could manage. There was a funeral taking place and death was not to be late. The red sky was covered in a grey shade. There was no sun. No heat or cold here they held no meaning. The cloud of dust was soon all I could see as the driver disappeared into the brighter part of the horizon. Staring through to that which I came. I wonder what meaning this has for me. The vignette grows stronger and black soon devours my vision.