1843
London’s clock just struck three
A forewarning of events to follow
The gloomy afternoon, an old mans delight
The weather of no concern, working late into the night
The village was in a festive mood
Of good will towards all men
Mistletoe and family gatherings
A twinkle in the eyes of young lovers
As midnight approached, on this special night
There appeared a spirit of a thousand souls
He woke the old man, who shivered in fright
Who are you he demanded, feigning his bravery
I am the spirit of all that was, and all that will be
Was the cold reply
So dress yourself old man, for I am taking you
To where you have been and were you will be
I will show you how you loved
I will show you how ambition consumed your love
Now you sleep counting pennies not from heaven
This path shall render you a dried heartless corpse
Come with me and my chains
As I show you the destiny of the unloved
Where spirits toil in the bowels of the earth
Hells fires fill them with painful regrets
The want and ignorance of the poor
If your life has amounted to earthy possessions only
You shall wander the afterlife in wanting and suffering
As these wisdom's you ignored here on earth
The old man remembered the soft touch of a kiss
That fate stole his bliss
The spirit spun his words so wise
The old man came to understand
The spirit of a thousand years
Drifted away with the morning light
So the old man, wrote his final wishes
Of good will to all of mankind
Then in silence, rope in place
He pulled away his chair
All of life’s efforts seemed fruitless now
As he escaped his life’s despair
Notes: Dickens meets Poe
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