The Plagiarized Dream

O, I slept light
While I saw my succors,
My success,
Stolen from me in a dream.

I had worked hard
Yet another had received 
The profit of my labor:
Almost like the Preacher said.

I dreamt of it,
His riches,
His honor,
His glory,
His might.
Yet, it was with my words
That he won my Cup.

I am as yet still unknown.
Does this phantom lurk?
Is the doppelganger real?
The very man I have dreamt about?
Does the phantom truly exist?
While he feasts
Must I fast?
While he enjoys the stolen bread
Must I subsist upon only crumbs?