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