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The Trials of a Dream

My Khan, I would relate a Dream to you.
For when the North Star sparkled in the blue
Domain where it resides, I slept upon
A bed in hostel poor. 'Twas then, Great Khan,
My head did fill with many wondrous sights
That often come to fill the winter nights.
A feast I saw, with many dishes rare
And wine from Southern lands. The summer air
Was filled with merry jests and joyous song.
And though I tried to join the lively throng,
A wolf appeared, of wise and solemn mien.
He called to me, and then I saw the chain
That bound him fast. I knelt amidst the roar
Of laughter drawn from rowdy men, and SNORE!
What noise was this that reached me in my bed
And forced my peaceful slumber to be shed?
Was it some winding horn or battle call?
A stormy crash that shook the very walls?
Ah, no, 'tis but my teacher's strident sounds
That echoed through the Inn and Tavern grounds.
So from my anecdote this message take:
The Dream is hardest when one's forced to wake.