I dreamed a dream of fear last night,
And never felt the sun.
It filled my stony heart with fright,
But ne'er did I run.
Diane saw me, I saw her too,
But it wasn't very fun.
She threatened to devour you,
And me, and everyone.
My dreams are not my own, my friend,
And neither yours for you.
There is a sleeper in us all,
But her dreams are few.
So she dreams in all of us,
And makes us to believe,
That we have lives of our own,
To wake, to live, to dream.
And now the Terror's Dream is ending,
And with it end ourselves.
And now, without further ado,
I'm off to kill myself.
Farewell.
I have made it to Ponyville. That poem was the last thing written in the book.
Something is terribly, terribly wrong.