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VISIONS OF DEATH

T’was in a dream I heard them say, 'At four o'clock he passed away'.
And I could see the morning sky; it's only eight am, thought I.
My wife stood crying at the door, visions of death to come at four.
Passed her I glanced up to the sun, and knew the hour was yet to come.
Then I awoke in sweat of fear, ‘tick’ ‘tock’ said clock, as four drew near.

My wife came in with breakfast ready, but failed to note my hand unsteady.
Bade I my wife farewell that day, in more than just the usual way.
But somehow this she failed to see, knowing not, that four meant death to me.
Yet somehow through that hectic day, I noticed not, it ticked away.
And even as the clock struck three, forgot that four meant death to me.

And so into my car got I, a man so young at heart to die.


Miles and minutes ticked away, the passing of my passing day.
The hour struck four; I cried in fear, remembering that dream so clear.
Even know the pain burns start; a curse upon this my failing heart.
A darker vision now I see, and know that death has come for me.

by Dae Neumann

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