In a Dream

In a dream within
a fever delirium
I met the Fisher King.

On the side of a trail he sat.
His wound was low
on his left side.

Where he needed my help to go
I will not tell you.
It shouldn't matter to you
for we did not reach there.

But as I helped him
up the path;
sometimes I was the helping one
and sometimes the wounded one.

We paused beside the trail
so I could gain more strength.
And when I finally stood
the Fisher King was dead.

I knew I hadn't the strength
to carry him to his wanted destination
and didn't want to go there any more.

I left him there
on the side of the trail
and barely carried my self
haltingly up the trail.

When I reached the branch
that led to the destination
I did not turn but continued up
to the summit
where the path then led down.

I continued down alone.