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Mene Mene
I dreamed a dream, and in it I found a girl sitting by a stream,
The water did not flow where she sat; instead it curdled and was flat,
She looked over to me, and I gave her a glance,
She then spoke something strange— neither stranger a thing I have never heard nor read,
“Mene Mene”
And, "Will we Dance?”
So there we went hand and hand, danced and danced,
Until I asked her “What was it she had meant?”
And “Why must we such dance?
She lay mute for a while, becoming still
Then quietly spoke,
“Everything has its season;
Things grow and things die,
Nothing will endure to the end,
Not even time.”
“We must dance,
For all things great wish to have their chance,
To relive what it is it they once had,
If even for a moment,
Before it is— past”
“Who are you then” I questioned
“To speak these solemn words to me?”
Her eyes quickly became glossy and her mouth tremble a bit,
“I am not one to be named
No one to be known!
Simply hear my words,
“Mene Mene!”
And with that we kissed,
And to those words I awoke,
To an empty a bed,
With a simple note,
Pinned to my wall.
