From behind me came voice and word...
Both new, and friendly to my ears.
In a sense did I now feel safe presence.
"A descendant of Cerberus was he...
So vile are those beasts.
Though shall you fear not, as you are protected."
I turned to find, through a doorway
bursting through with light in abundance...
The poet of Florence, in form of spirit.
Dressed the white and red of his portraits.
With upon his head, a crown of leaves,
Whose veins were black with ink.
"Poet before me, I beseech from thee, answers,
For once I had many, and now I have none!
Assist me, as I lost more than ever."
My head hung in shame,
like some criminal on the gallows...
I knew not the true reasons for my shame.
"I have many times prayed,
and my faith have I kept!
But once more, I am adrift...
Like a ship is my being, lost at sea...
My body, the temple...crumbling with erosions.
My soul fears the twists and turns of time."
"Hold thy tongue," he commanded, "And worry not!
Sent to you is the guide before thee,
By Heaven's Kingdom, the Empire above.
Within was the soul of my name,
As mine eyes hath watched thee for some time,
And our ways are not so much in difference.
Follow me friend…and away from here shall we walk.
Through and betwixt the three kingdoms,
To bring to you answers and peace.
Though, shall I warn you, you will as once did,
Witness the features that are meant for no living human…
Thou shalt be tested by that which is sought out.
If you are to take this hand that reaches outward to you,
Then a journey rare to us all will be let upon you…
Unto you shall the Afterlife know your name."
And lo' did I into his stern face and welcoming eyes,
Gazing with utmost curiosity and praise to his words,
But my tongue for once could find no way to respond.
Allowed I, the movements of my limbs to make my fateful decision…
I took the hand of my idol and fascination took me,
Took me to make the first few steps of my odyssey.