Dreams of Fantasy

                                             Dreams of Fantasy



In a Dream of mine,
Dreams of Fantasy arise.
These Dreams, you see, are more like prophetic visions in disguise.
Invading my mind, my thoughts, my heart, and all;
And these Dreams see the darkness, despair, pain, and the fall.
For these Dreams are not really Dreams at all; but nightmares.
Foreseen events to come, a wicked premonition.
Allusions of grandeur warped within cognition.
No escaping the mind, I’m trapped within this labyrinth.
Will there be change in time?
I wait, I lament.
No escape, no change.
I’m afflicted, limited within infinity’s range.
These Dreams, you’ll see, are bound by rotation.
They’re cyclical, preordained, foretelling the fall of a nation.
A nation great, built upon principles.
A nation that is powerful yet is not invincible.
Anything but a fantasy, I couldn’t have surmised,
That this nation I love will soon meet its demise.
It was written when this nation obtained its glory,
But I was mistaken; Dreams of fantasy do not apply to this story.