My dreams were filled with frightful things;
Warblers riding ravens' wings.
Obsidian bodies flocked in rows,
Walking slowly over trees.

Stiff dead children sailed dark seas.
Warblers riding on their backs.

The ravens marched in close formation,
An army of dark purpose,
Taking warblers to the shore
To ride their grim escorts.

What frightful things must abide
In this gentle heart of mine
To summon images like these.
I dare not try explore.