Tragic dreams inspiring poetry!

There are some questions you do not ask yourself in the middle of the night. Your brain will be so caught up trying to give you an answer that it will cook up strange dreams that won't actually be an answer to the question you asked but a response to the emotions behind the question. The brain has a funny way of subconsciously solving this emotion based niggles. The answers are almost always wrapped up in difficult to interpret dream signs that actually cause more confusion then they answer.

What was my question? I was wondering about past lives, more specifically, my own. No this is an area that is best left up to your personal beliefs but my personal belief is in the rebirth/re-incarnation cycle. In fact I feel I have occasional glimpses at that former self - to experience the memory of final moments certain sent a shiver down my spine. That, gratefully, was not what I was thinking about last night. When I dwell on those glimpses I sense that there was a person whom this other self loved beyond all reason; someone for whom they willingly threw their life away in battle for. Of course, it was late in the night and I began wondering if I had met or would meet that person in this life time. This was not a good point in the train of thought to fall asleep...

My dream was sad, I warn you now. It starts of with a man putting a letting a waterproof case and attaching to the bottom of an iceberg. Then I see a family home. My kid (which I have none of) is playing in the background and I am unable to focus on cooking dinner - it keeps going wrong. The man from before begins to play with the kid and offers ice cream although dinner has not been had. Feeling frustrated and sad I open the fridge to discover he has labeled absolutely everything ( including stuff that already out of date). Next thing I know I am watching him leave, not stopping him and shedding not tears, asking the universe if this is how it's meant to be. The next thing I know my attention is call back to the iceberg. I realise that the letter is a representation of what he feels and believes. Then there is this terrible knowledge that archeologist in a distant future will know more about his state of mind then I ever will.

It was at this point that I woke up feeling like an unchangable tragedy had happened.
But I wrote a nice poem as a result!