Gather the souls of your dead brothers,
Collect the body of an old man named Oak,
Gather that which the farmers seldom spoil the horses with,
I will return to you.

It began with him as my rival,
My nemesis.
We sprang the trap and chased him,
Till all our strengths failed but mine.
I was alone with him.
He turned into something I hated,
But loved as well.
He bid me adieu,
And passed beyond the fence.

Sitting, Ages later,
Upon a lonely hilltop,
I recalled his parting words.
A rite of ceremony.
Dead leaves, Oak twigs, And sugar.
The ingredients gathered, I waited.
To no avail.
Casting aside this concoction,
I kneeled and wept.
For I, once, just once,
Wanted to see my cat again.

Note: This was a dream I had today. It was probably the saddest one I've ever had. Please keep in mind that all haters will be not be approved. Thank you and Happy 2011!