I've dreamed the death The thousands dream Every day of every year In white masks, they travel on Humbled but proud With silent pleas Their lives fled before them Like leaves in a storm And I stand still aside Watching them file through The roads are filled with their masses The ground breaks under their feet They ask nothing from no one But still their questions shatter the air Their lives fled before them Like leaves in a storm And I stand still aside Watching them file through (By Dickinson)