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  • He walked amongst the Trial Men
    In a suit of shabby grey;
    A cricket cap was on his head,
    And his step seemed light and gay;
    But I never saw a man who looked
    So wistfully at the day.

    He looked upon the garish day
    With such a wistful eye;
    The man had killed the thing he loved
    And so he had to die.

    And as he was desperate sitting in his dark cell, as he was waiting to
    be punished for his crime, a ghost appeared to him, a lovely unearthly creature and she whispered into his mind:

    Yet each man kills the thing he loves
    By each let this be heard,
    Some do it with a bitter look,
    Some with a flattering word,
    The coward does it with a kiss,
    The brave man with a sword!

    Some love too little, some too long,
    Some sell, and others buy;
    Some do the deed with many tears,
    And some without a sigh:
    For each man kills the thing he loves,
    Yet each man does not die.

    The king woke up in sweat, his body was shuddering, he could not breathe. He spent many days wondering what he had to do to get rid of the nightmare.
    And one cold, moonless night...
    He killed his beloved queen and then prepared to die.

    The verses mentioned in the nightmare are by Oscar Wilde's The Reading Goal, the poem he wrote while he was in jail.

    You can read the poem here:

    and find out more about it here:

    This text can be found in the Nightmare page on FB:
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