Funny how dreams can totally change your perception of someone, perhaps even someone you've never talked to. How, the next time you talk, the image in the dream will course through your mind like dye in water. Wouldn't that be interesting! No conversation (with said person) would be the same.

How a dream can grant your greatest wish and your darkest desire, one that quenches your long-hidden yearnings, or which taps into the deepest recesses of your carnality, which creates desire out of nothing.

How a dream can be the epitome of your fear and resentment, faces of sins long past or recurrences of a desperate childhood long forgotten, or even sheer horror at aberrant thoughts.

And yet how the break of dawn is the great inverter of emotion; does one not relieved after a nightmare, is one not left empty after one of ecstasy?

Oh the magic of dreams, it's almost poetic!

Azazyl

Stench of humanity,
The rot of those fair.
Despair!
Of lost sanity and
Dreams never there.