Steven Craig Hickman
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There Is Sadness In His Eye
There is sadness in his eye
There is sadness in his eye, the fallen king,
the torn and shattered marshalling of his kin,
the twisted ways of Wyrd, the mourning wails,
the women dressed in raven wings, eyes black as night, singing
out the keening dirges of the battle slain: woe to all
who survive such death, the slayer's blazoned craft;
for now they must live with strange knowledge,
myths and legends, fierce progeny of the mind's altered light:
bones of contention, ancestral mounds, the head's dark laughter:
night after night, I ponder this man's life, ...