Otherworldly Hosts

One night while I was sleeping
I had the strangest dream,
I dreamed the fairest maiden,
Watched me from another realm,
I could see her through my mirror
As she sat by a stream,
While through the rippling water,
She was staring back at me.

She looked so sad and solemn,
Her face was wan and pale,
As if something was missing,
Like the end page of her tale,
She was trying to tell me something,
That I could not comprehend,
I could not hear her whispers,
On the cold breath vapor sent.

In her world, it was winter,
In my world it was spring,
And I knew she longed to be here,
So I invited her in,
Then she stepped out of my mirror
And walked into my mind,
And I felt the coldest shiver
Run up and down my spine.

It filled me with the sorrow
Of a melancholy tune,
The notes danced round in circles,
To resound around the room,
And in that haunting echo,
Vibrating through my mind,
A violin clad minstrel,
Left notes floating on the wind.

I asked her what's the matter,
What caused her tears to flow,
That question left unanswered,
From a story left untold,
She said she had no reason
For being inside my head,
Still I wondered how she got there,
And I wondered why she stayed.

My curiosity bit me,
My thoughts were in a whirl,
If I were to find an answer,
I'd have to travel to her world,
So I wandered through the mirror,
Into her ghostly realm,
And I saw her spirit flicker
Like a reel of silent film.

She just stood there staring,
Her eyes were deathly cold,
Save for those crystal teardrops,
That rolled out from her soul,
And the minstrel kept on playing,
Tunes from his mournful violin,
Those sad psalms to the maiden,
That whispered on the wind.

Now just as strange as dreams can be,
I end my story there,
But I will always remember,
Her blank and empty stare,
It left me with a feeling,
Of complete and utter loss,
And a profoundly deep belief in
Otherworldly hosts.