When I retire,  often late at night,
When the drink and the smoke have awakened my sight,

I close my eyes, and clear my mind,
And just drift away,  leaving earth behind.
And as I pace,  in my silent room,
I journey far beyond the moon.

I see all the stars,  and I've given them names,
And imagine that somehow I'll get there one day.

And then it appears, a desert so deep,
Two suns shine upon me; the sand burns my feet.
This place is familiar; I've been here before.
The sand,  a deep scarlet,  the color of war.

And as I go deeper,  my room disappears.
My eyes are still closed, but somehow I hear.
The voices are faint,  but I follow the sound.

And watch in awe as it rises from the ground.
A city of sand,  of steel,  and stone.
I stand at the gates of a city I've known.
Surrounded by peoples so unlike our own.

A figure approaches,  in patched leather clothes,
Red scales,  and a dragon- like snout for a nose.
He flashes a smile,  his fangs are all stained.

He says "I'd always wondered if we'd meet again. "
He extended an arm and clasped onto my own,
And said,  "it's good to see you home. "