I
lay my head down slowly
perchance
to sleep or dream
I
thought I'd catch a drink
by
Morpheus' stream
Oh,
to dream of leather
cold
steel and azure eyes
deny
the waking truth
embrace
Egyptian sighs
But
what I found was darkness
within
me and without
for
'twas the end of fantasy
-
a death, there was no doubt
The
ashes of the mourning
came
with the rising sun
but
was a cold dish eaten
bitter
spoonfuls, every one
And
as the sky grew darker
as
day progressed to night
I
knew that I'd not drink
Morpheus'
sweet delight
No
more the tales of honour
of
giants and of kings
of
beauties laced with fire
of
devi's and enchanted rings
The
bloodlust and redemption
the
cruelty and the pain
as
lessons freely given
only
reruns shall remain
The
time when gods asunder
every
mortal in their path
is
done, now and forever
what
is left - the sword and staff
Their
songs were sung with voices
both
shrill and honeyed, too
of
warrior/bards in battle
and
those who sought the truth
But
for one shining moment
when
the cry throughout the land
was
for a pair of heroes
they
fought, the battle grand
(c)
ArdentTly
03310