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The Dream

The image is seen from a great height, maybe through the lens of a god and it appears ageless and intractable. The image looks out over an abandoned city centre. The buildings still stand and inside, their offices still housing grand desks that still guard papers, but there is no familiarity here whatsoever.
A road divides our image and leads us towards an orange horizon where at its crest, stands a great shadow. Here we see mankind encircling the dawn of a new era, linked by their passion for love and existence. Under the birth of a son they breathe, they wait; they prepare to move as one. The Collective; gathered, with empty hands, light feet and unstained minds.
Suddenly a unlike image emanates from a decrepit unfriendly tower; cruel, violent, and ghastly. Mankind gasps; the night loses a breath as fear is fought with a heaving resolute groan. The Collector; carrying his penance as fashion, flaunts his imperceptible self. Hearts race and fevers peak as a storm of anxiety lashes up…