|
Distant
faces,
A far away voice -
Is there a reason,
Perhaps a choice,
For the pain
Deep inside,
Like the chasm
Long and wide?
Mysterie speak
Of that thou know
And, if thou wilt,
To me so.
Place a name
On horrors dead,
Childless fears
And nights of dread.
Call by tongue
The word of fear
The endless chant;
Price so dear.
Speak a dream
Of lovers sold
And ransom's sweet
More pure than gold.
Tell of these
If thou'st can
Of beasts so strange
That prey on man
From the dark, dead corners
Of that plane
A place devoid of summer's rain.
Amongst the fogs
And mists so dense;
The place where death
Has residence.
|