deepundergroundpoetry.com

That Dream

There's initially mountains
and I fall
to a black arched gate with spires sitting there
as trees brush past me
delivering me softly to the ground.

Symphony creeps from under cobbled floor
then there's a trapdoor
and we're all inside
I'm not drinking
but it's fuzzy
there's a barman dressed like a ringleader
I sip tea with him
then everyone's gone
and I'm pacing halls in the Overlook.

Rooms open empty, little Jack's sound
until I fall from a window into the snow
and I'm alone
it always ends alone.
Written by pretty_normal (Pretty Normal)
Published
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