National Adult Literacy Database

August 18, 1997

The following story was written by Patches who lives in Stony Mountain, Manitoba.

Follow Me To The Edge Of The World

by Patches

Like a vulture, he came to my home town

to my home town, my home town.

Just a boy I watched him knock upon the old wood door,

To the old man's house, the old grizzled moor.

In silence, the man in black fled down the old road

Beside him running silent, was the grizzled old moor.

Behind the two upon a horse, I rode through the night into the cold

Through charred hills, and mountains of old.

We travelled through lands, where the sun feared to tread,

And the moon filled your heart with utter dread.

Still the two, upon gossamer wings, led me through into the sun,

But it would be many years, before our journey was finally done.

Hey you, come gather round

Sit close, warm yourself by the fire

Listen to a tale about a soul sorrow-bound

Sit close and warm yourself by the fire.

Seasons change, and the years sail on by

But we go on, and on, and on.

Beneath a sun and moon, trading places in the sky

Still we go on, and on, and on.

Until at long, long last, by the edge of the world

Where a man, now long grown up can reach the stars.

This is their place, the place they go, their world.

Their place is cold, though sometimes hot beneath a sky devoid of stars.

With my cloak, wrapped tightly around me

I follow the man in black, but behind the old moor

Into the heart of a darkened land, where souls yearn to be free.

My eyes open wide, so eager to see what I might find.

Hey you, come gather round

Sit close, warm yourself by the fire

Listen to a tale about a soul sorrow-bound

Sit close, and warm yourself by the fire.

Bright coin in my hand, this I gave to the dead ferryman

Over black mirrored water, silent we sailed over the sea of Styx

Little more than my shadow, I studied the black-dressed man

Just as he, the souls beneath the waves, a spiraling helix.

Upon the far shore, Minos seated upon a throne of bone

For the grizzled old moor, did he pass judgement

Yet not on black, for this place he too called home

But unto me was passed the cruelest judgement.

I cried for all to hear, "I am alive! Alive!"

But Minos smiled and said Oh, woe to ye curiosity unfed

You who walk until eternity through the footsteps of the dead."

Hey you, come gather round

Sit close, relax by my fire

Listen to the tale of a soul sorrow-bound

Hey you, chilled to the touch, can't you feel the heat of the fire.

[This poem was used with kind permission from the Stony Mountain Correctional Institute in Stony Mountain, Manitoba].