Triangular Dream

In my dream on the deck I shuddered: a chilling presentiment ran through my Far-away Prince’s soul.

A noisy, threatening silence invaded the room’s visible atmosphere like a livid breeze.

It all comes down to a harsh, troubling brilliance in the moonlight over the ocean that no longer tosses but still waves. Though I still couldn’t hear them, it became clear that there were cypresses next to the Prince’s palace.

The sword of the first lightning bolt vaguely whirled in the beyond. The moonlight over the high sea is the colour of lightning, and what it all means is that the palace of the prince I never was is now ruins in a distant past.

As the ship draws near with a sullen sound, the room lividly darkens, and he didn’t die, nor is he captive, but I don’t know what has become of him, the prince. What cold and unknown thing is his destiny now?