Did you see the fading painting hanging crookedly up in the hall? The gruesome tableau didn't seem to shock the senses of the guests for long. Distorted reflections mingled with the sunlight playing on the wall, as kaleidoscopic inundation kept the mansions occupants enthralled. In my dream, a swarm of flies was hovering just above a piece of meat. And this decomposing slab of flesh though dead continuously bleeds - I see a mirror maze reflected in their gaze, amidst the whir of wings and stained proboscises. From the mezzanine I watched the prismic chandeliers refract their glow, swaying slowly just above the heads of all the visitors below. Closing up the windows, an attempt to quell, the growing sense of gloom - the summer moon still dapples all the darkening walls and corners of the room. In my dream a nebulous black cloud surrounds a slab of rotting meat, and in this sinewy mass of flesh the flies proceed to smear their seed - their brood, a family of cold carnality; buzzing a lullaby to their larval children.