is this a dream?

the day was dark and the night burned

the wind spread fire and the sun cried

the clouds were the ghosts of dying stars

that would scream before they died.

the rain was hot and scorched the earth

but her core was frozen, icy, solid

the ghostly steam would sing a song

a reminiscent cacophony, a ballad

how uncomfortable it must be

to exist in such catastrophe

each star contained a memory

each day, farther from reality