A Dream

    Greetings to the Hall, a poem written and published a long time ago.

    From the fog I emerge

    A little shaken, but standing on my feet

    Before me, everything is clear

    I see a man walking to me

    He is an elder man, with a cloak and a staff

    He looks at me and motions me to follow him

    He is walking a path down to the shore, and I follow

    He points at the shoreline, and shows me a sight

    Sea life of all kinds, lay tied and rotting on the beach

    He points at the sky, and shows me a sight

    The sky is black as pitch, the sun is red as blood

    The elder man looks at me, and then walks away

    The fog rolls back in and the vail closes

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