Many years ago I wrote about a dream I had called "Portent" due to it's nature and possible application to the physical world. This is a follow on.

Portent (II)

The blade jabs
hangs like a guillotine;

a grey cloud which follows
stabs day and night.

Two decades have passed
but you are not forgotten

the blank figure at my bed
with a hand through my heart

leaving a sleeping shard.