On one gloomy evening
Neighborhood stray-paws come to prey
Backyard roosters; yapping and flapping
Pillowcase feathers sprout in the color of snow grey

Got spooked suddenly; waking slumbered bind
Still blinded by freezing disbelief; an odd sight
It was, for the dreamer lost inside his own mind
Horrible animal noise should tunnel-guide to the light

Back to the cold struggling-bound world where
Deep sleep is certainly an obvious escape place
Though trickery peaceful; nothing could hurt there
Except diffuse our aura metaphysically beyond space

Between reality and fantasy, if I'm to choose
I shall go with the latter because I don't want to
Take a rifle, resume another cycle of violence noose
Knowing one day, I could forever retire to a wonderful fantasy too