In waking life I have a dream
of three slugs put to skull
this is a fantasy I'll admit
because only one would do the trick

in my dreams I find escape
calm is found with visitors
transients blurred by shifting scenes
seeming normal in nightly realms

then I wake from torpid bliss
find myself within the chains
ternary dreads await the soul
that drifts among the lucky ones

the sleeping hours ignore this theme
the trilogies are heavenly
with no taint of deepest angst
asking balm by three times fired.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170731.