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The Valley of the Black Pig
| The dews drop slowly and dreams gather: unknown spears | | Suddenly hurtle before my dream-awakened
eyes, | | And then the clash of fallen horsemen and the cries | | Of unknown perishing armies beat about
my ears. | | We who still labour by the cromlech on the shore, | | The grey cairn on the hill, when day sinks
drowned in dew, | | Being weary of the world’s empires, bow down to you, | | Master of the still stars and of
the flaming door. |
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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