Only a dream, of death

I dreamt a vivid dream in the cold last night,
that I was a victim of wretched plight.

Plight filled with death, malice, and hate,
Lifeless was I on the ground, stolen and in a saddened fate.

Awakened I with still body, heart-racing,
yet with a head-full of prayers, and a good, mind-pacing.

To step my feet on the ground felt like entering war,
blood once again to see, oh God, please, no more.

But, I got up, leaned out, plopped my feet on the carpet,
Swearing aloud that Christ's words I would not forget.

With the Spirit saying my prayers for me,
My sleepy head unable, but glad to agree...

"If a day were to come like this for me,
make me valiant in You, my victorious King."