Fallencrest Poem by Asset Balin

can't move that much
can't feel my hands
can't tell anybody, my semblance to nobody,
for the vents were seen penultimately,


i - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
want to stab, and stab, and slash, and kill
the oaf who wears the motley, here! hear!
i- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
often dream and dread that i was dead
when midnight wanes i yearn to breathe.
i- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
once stepped at thorns and lively mines,
malevolently, in time they knew no crimes.
i- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
lusted for tranquillity; acquiescing dreamily
to the call of dismal affinity, the Graiea


much more, nevermore i'll say
my hands' numbness for eternity,
"mull cautiously as you traverse your way
for brains blunder and hearts instinctively betray."