Green August haze and double moons
A swallow’s lonely flight:
These three things portended Death
On my last fateful night
I read the cards, I cast the stone
I tried to do you right
But your memory turned malign
You lost your searching light
The fabled sword of lands before
Was blessed with godly might
Yet still it shattered on your skin
And all the shards took flight
My quest drew on two years too long
Until my eyes had dried
And I slept beneath your hill
Sinned, fled, caught, and tried
The reeds that framed my silver lake
Whispered soft and cried
They knew of war beyond the shore
And sought new ways to hide
The ballad of the blackened stars
Eclipsed the storms inside
When death came knocking at my door
I flung it open wide
Story continues below advertisement