Now I told my Lord this, my most recent dream. And I said to him, “My dear Lord, last night as you slept, I dreamt. And as I walked among the fallen leaves of the autumn wood, a swarm of moths rose up around me, as dry as paper, as thick as smoke, as inconsequential as whispers, as soon forgotten as promises, as unneeded as lies, as unheeded as truth, as unwanted as pity, as selfish as our lives.”