And then I woke up, it had all been a dream,
From the dense city of ghosts, in all my photographs,
So I stirred under shadows cast by the moonlight stream,
And stared through the window, along the earth path,

I stepped upon the well trod dirt with matches in hand,
Lighting the incense beneath the leaves and the moss,
I prayed there in grief, for my wife 'neath the land,
I took to the notion, to get revenge for my loss,

Armed with revolver, I went to the man who had left me so mired,
Climbed the stairs of the house, draining my slow poison cup,
I leveled the gun to his head, steadied my hand and fired,
And then shot bolt upright in bed;
He woke up,