"The haunting, hunted kind..."
~ Pilot's Dream

I dreamed I met a little boy.
A most amazing child.
He smiled at me, but didn't speak a word.
The wind was all I heard.

I followed him down a crowded alley,
filled with scowls and empty stares.
He walked among the wicked and the vile,
the endless mercantile.

Suddenly, there came
a howling, bitter rain.
The child reached out his arms
and smiled at me again.

The crowds cowered to run,
the cleansing had begun.

Then I saw thousands of sinners
falling to their knees,
searching the sky as in a trance,
wailing in song about a second chance.

When I awoke, I stepped to my window.
Crows scattered from the trees.
Their eerie call oppressed my mind,
the haunting, hunted kind.