Last night I had the strangest dream,

of a time that belonged to me,

and of a city lost one awful night

in a land beyond the sea.

In the dead of night he came to me,

an old man grey and worn.

He said he’d known me long ago;

long before this day was born.

In a wide brimmed hat and long black cloak

and shoes with black buckled bows.

I could see he belonged to another age,

a puritan I suppose.

In fear of what I did not know I begged,  

Go for both our sakes.

Go somewhere else my sad old ghost

before this body wakes.

Look closer boy! he said in angered tones

with a heart that was in pain.

Doest thou really not remember me?

Have I come so far in vain?

I’m afraid you have because we’ve never met.

You’ve made a mistake it seems.

Now be on your way. Find someone else

and leave me to my dreams.

It hurt the old man to be so rebuffed

when trying to make me see.

Listen to my words you foolish youth

since you’ve waited so long for me.

Look passed this shadow to what lies beneath,

what once was skin and bone.

Then swear thou hast never seen this face before

for it is thy very own.

His words made me reel with disbelief.

How could this old man be me?

If the dead be not wise then ghosts can be mad.

It’s absurd, but he must be.

Child, in truth, I am thee and thou art me,

thou hast passed this way before.

Thou wilt die ere long, as we all must do,

and yet will live once more.

Now come with me, the old man urged.

The dawn is overdue.

There’s so much thou hast forgotten;

so much that thou once knew.

Could I dare to trust this strange old ghost,

and what would the consequence be?

Was it true, had I really lived in another time

when this old man was me?

On reaching up I took the old man’s hand,

leaving my body where it lay.

Then like a mist the walls were gone

as into the night we stray.

Far above the darkened earth we sped,

the starry night to climb.

While without its soul my lifeless body slept,

through this night of eons of time.

Where are we going? I thought to ask,

in words that had no sound.

No destination in the trackless stars

nor in the distant ground.

But if the old man heard he made no sign

to heed as on we sped.

Only the seamless night knew we were there

and where this pathway led.

The secret of the night is that the stars are wise

and know the paths we tread.

They know the times of our births and deaths

and the fates to which we are wed.

That night I saw many future worlds

on our journey through the sky,

though wisdom is better served with silence

if fear would make me lie.

Then by the glow of the moon we began to descend,

through a mist of silver cloud.

When through a gap appeared a rocky coast

and the crash of waves grew loud.

And deep within a memory stirred

as if from long ago;

as if I’d been here once before,

though when I did not know.

I remembered the sound of the crashing waves

and the rocks where I used to play,

and the hidden cove beneath the cliffs

where my wife and I would lay.

Thank you old man, I remember now,

I know I have lived before.

And though to my eyes we appear as two

there is but one on this shore.

But it will soon be dawn my ghostly friend

and is time for me to leave.

Speed me home as fast as you can

that my body I may retrieve.

The old man was pleased I had remembered so much,

but then his countenance grew stern.

Thou hast remembered well, as I knew thou wouldst,

but there is one thing more to learn.

If you must old friend, then tell me quick

and let’s be on our way.

For a rosy dawn is fast approaching

and heralds another day.

No my young fool, that is not the dawn,

for thy city is on fire.

The glow thou sees will take thy life

for it is thy funeral pyre.

Then into the wide market square I stepped,

the agora was strewn with dead.

Beneath the gaze of Daphne’s shrine

where my wife and I were wed.

We were but children on that summer’s day,

when my wife was barely four;

an unwanted girl in rag ribboned pigtails

to trip and knock to the floor.

Or I would lead her across the river

and desert her far from home.

And yet she would always wander back

and in tears sit on her own.

Then one harvest day without warning

I found the years had fled.

My unwanted companion no longer followed,

a woman was the child I wed.

Our long wasted summers had passed like shadows,

and yet we were strangers still,

though now her glance would make me stumble,

and in my stomach make me ill. 

I know not by whom or how she met her end,

or where from life she was torn,

yet I knew in my soul the moment she was gone

and that our child would never be born.

Of those who had entered the agora that night

six lay at my feet.

And now on Charon’s shore they waited,

their killer there to meet.

Though my sides were cut and bleeding

and my arms were covered in gore

I was determined to take at least one other

with me to Charon’s shore.

Then in the light of the flames I saw him enter the square,

a veteran with his back to the wall.

Over his shoulder he carried a sack of gold,

his payment for my city’s fall.

He looked older than me by fifteen years

and measured each step he took.

But I was young and chance favours speed,

and so I carefully baited my hook.

I moved towards him preparing to lunge,

as he would expect of a foolish youth.

Then crouching low the sack slipped from his hand,

as he awaited the moment of truth.

I raised my sword, he thrust at me,

but I sliced across his arm.

Then swinging round I plunged it into his side,

and suddenly he was calm.

Drawing him to me with my arm round his shoulder

I buried my sword to its hilt.

And in this embrace his life slowly ebbed

as a leaf he began to wilt.

For a sack of beaten temple gold

his greed had cost him his life.

Though his death was little to ask of the gods

as payment for my wife.

But my prey was not yet done with this world

as in my stomach he buried his blade;

and the agony I felt was like none I can describe

as the meeting with fate was made.

The chill of death crept through my limbs

as my enemy lowered my head.

And in my fear of death I called for my wife,

though I knew she was already dead.

I could not understand the words he said

though my enemy spoke to me,

and held my hand as he laid me down

so together we might be.

But looking up I saw his face and knew this

world had lied,

for he who lent his hand to me

was standing by my side.