Where Dreams May Come Poem by Jacob Randall

I dreamed a dream of days gone by. I heard a voice from a time long past. I looked up to find a friend I had not seen for many years. Twas the voice of innocence.

I heard the cry of pain. Pride, vanity, a mortal stain. I looked up to see eyes aglow, branding the coldest Winters' snow.

Twas not innocence that stood before me but the face of Man's eternal doom. What gloom it was that I did see. Alas. Alas. How could it be this our fate? Is there nothing yet that man can do to redeem his eternal soul?