A little while back I came up with the idea to write a poem called "Dark Machine" But I couldn't figure out why I had to write it, I didn't know why it was important. All I knew was that it had to be written. My major problem was I didn't know what direction I was taking with the idea. I thought I knew what I was writing about, but I couldn't begin or end it. I decided not to write the poem for a while and spent a rather long time thinking about it. To be Honest I didn't even know what the "Dark Machine" was, only that I had to somehow write about it. I felt like it wasn't really my idea, it felt like an idea someone had given me. I went camping with my family recently, I was able to get away from a bit of the everyday world. and our second night camping I had a dream, a dream that was colorful but horrific at the same time. The dream wasn't about me, but I was in it, it was about someone else, In the dream there was a game, and we were all playing it. As I awoke I understood everything, I now know what the Dark Machine is.