Tales of the Shattered Crystal
And she sang the same song o'er and o'er,
Her voice droning on for hours.
"And are you my love, the man of my heart?
Are you the one I dream of?
Are you the knight that will carry me 'way?
Are you my very own true love?"
As I gazed at her, I saw in her hand
The blade of a bloody dagger,
And recalled I'd seen her in Lexington
With a man, a brute and a bragger.
He looked like a sailor, coarse and unclean,
And he swore with every breath,
But she looked like the purest of angels,
Just pausing on earth to rest.
Was he brutal to her and was he cruel?
Did he frequently forget her?
Whatever he was, whatever he did,
She surely deserved much better.
Is there a black cloud low over her head?
Or is it the sun a-setting?
For the shadows are settling over her face,
Dark like a lacy netting.
Oh, where is one worthy of her heart?
Where is the one she dreams of?
Where is a knight who will carry her home?
Where is her own true love?
***
The Making of a Hero
He gave up a throne for a woman;
He gave up a throne for a wife
And the only compensation
Was misery for the rest of his life.
She drove him from his castle;
She drove him from his home.
He even joined the army
Just to be left alone.
They say that he's a hero;
Led a charge at the risk of his life.
But he told them he'd rather risk dying
Than retreat back towards his wife.
***
The Mural Crown
The mural crown was on his head;
The murrey banner blew.
The bugle's blare had died away,
And the enemy were slew.
The blackened walls were breached and burned;
Great smoking gaps were hewn,
While 'round the courtyard bodies of
The dead were wildly strewn.
The conquerors had come and gone,
The castle now stood raped.
Robbed of all its gold and glory,
No treasure had escaped.
The hero of the hour stood
Surveying all the waste.
Amazed at all the ruin wrought
In name of Christian grace.
Amazed at all the carnage swept
Away with wave of hand,
" 'Twas done in heat of battle, so
Guilt falls upon no man."
'Til, sick at heart, he fell upon
His knees in the dirt,
And in his anguish cried aloud,
"Oh, dear God, hear my words.
Tell me, where have the angels gone?
O' have they lost their nerve?
For certainly it seems to me,
They have abandoned earth.
'Tis true that we insult our God;
Do foul deeds in His name.
'Tis easier when doing wrong
To give the Lord the blame.
We call this war a great crusade,
The Holy Word to spread;
And what if we do profit some,
Gold's useless to the dead.
Each blatant sin that we commit
Is swiftly blessed away
By priests who's sins are twice our own;
Who's hands twice as bloodstained.
O' Lord, thy mercy must be great
To suffer such as we,
For such a wretched thing am I,
Who kneels here at Thy feet."
Before him flashed a blinding light;
He covered o'er his eyes.
Then as the brilliance died away,
A figure seemed to rise.
'Twas clothed in white, so pure and bright
It nearly burned the eye,
Yet through the form he still could see
Clouds floating in the sky.
"Oh, my poor, weary, broken child;
My wretched shattered son.
May your heart be soothed and cleansed of
All evil you have done.
May all your wounds be bound and healed,
And may your mind know ease.
May love and laughter live in you,
And may your soul find peace.
For mercy is so hard to find,
And justice is unknown
Until a man comes face to face
With God upon His throne.
You ask where have the angels gone?
Is goodness really dead?
No! when a man sees light of truth,
'Tis there an angel treads."
The figure faded with the sun;
The light was going fast,
And darkness had descended
Before he stood at last.
The hero took from off his head
The golden mural crown,
In deep contempt he threw it down
And crush it in the ground.
*Mural Crown. a golden crown indented to resemble a battlement given to the
first man to mount the wall of a besieged place and plant a standard.
***
The Order
When she heard the order spoke
From lips that she had loved,
She fell upon the floor and cried
And in her heart he died.
When he came to comfort her
She would not hear his words.
Her eyes accused him of foul deeds,
Her lips cried, "Murderer!"
"My dear," he said, "you are naive
To listen to your heart.
Necessity is often cruel
And victory seems dark."
She said, "You know that isn't true.
No vict'ry should be dark.
The only thing that's cruel and cold
Is your black, evil heart."
"I cannot love you now," she said.
"I mourn those you have killed."
"Perhaps, pet, you should join them then,
If that's the way you feel."
"Perhaps I should," she whispered low,
Though in her heart was fear.
He drew the dagger from his belt,
"Farewell, my love, my dear."
***
The Sailor's lady
See the sailor's lovely lady
As she bids to him goodbye.
There's the glow of love and laughter
Shining brightly in her eye,
And you never would suspect, sir,
How I wish that look were mine.
If I could catch her glance but once,
'Tis gladly I would die.
I've a manor on a hillside
'Circled by a wall of stone
And there's cattle in the pasture,
The fields are all well grown.
But I tell you, sir, sincerely,
I'd give everything I own
If the lady were but in my class
And I could take her home.
But my mother wouldn't like it;
No, I don't suppose she would'
And I know Pater would tell me
That she simply is no good;
We'd be the flaming scandal
Of the whole damn neighborhood,
Still, it really is a pity
For she's ripe in maidenhood.
O' it's classes this and classes that,
It's how we're born and bred;
It tells us when and what to eat
And where to go to bed.
It keeps us from the things we love
'Til we're in our coffins, dead,
And even then we quake in fear
At what is
being said.
***
The Scarlet Cross of Daramast
Lost in the mists of the distant past
Lies the scarlet cross of Daramast
And only the keeper of the bow
Can free it from the spell of Krow.
While far away 'mong the distant peaks
Stands the ancient temple of Duneek.
There kept by the priests in sacred trust,
A golden arrow lies in dust,
Hid by an ancient spider's lace
And nearly blackened by its age.
It lies, a symbol of man's hope,
Untouched upon a velvet robe.
And he who would claim the golden shaft
Must first produce the longbow's halves
Rejoined; 'twas thus it was foretold
Long ago in an age of old.
'Twas thus repeated in all lore
In the mighty land of Marinore.
The time was old, the age was dark;
In all the realm there was no spark
Of goodness anywhere to see,
For a ruthless tyrant was called "king".
His heavy boot ground opposition
Into dust. He made degradation
A sport, celebrated and admired.
'Twas a time when evil men conspired;
A time when every virtue fled,
And righteousness was all but dead.
The late one night from out the dark
Came a brave young man with a reckless heart.
His raven mane flowed long and free
And his dark wild eyes were bright and deep.
He was tall and strong and fair of face,
And he wore the clothes of a warrior race.
Those who saw him stared in awe,
But the tyrant clenched his gnarled claw.
He swore to send this boy to hell,
And his henchmen knew he meant it well.
The king was vile, cruel, bold,
A stinking mess without a soul.
He sent his guards to bring him in
And shortly they returned with him.
He stared at the young man standing there;
Then slowly arose from his golden chair.
His eyes glowed with sadistic joy.
"And have you a challenge for me, boy?"
The mob all laughed at what they'd heard,
But the young man never said a word.
Instead he reached inside his pack;
The guards stepped forward, then stepped back
As he drew out two bent, broken sticks,
The king sneered, "Say, boy, what is this?"
The boy dashed the pieces to the floor
And they came together, a bow restored.
He held out his hand, and the mob stood in awe
As from the air he seemed to draw
A golden arrow, straight and clean.
The crowd all watched as in a dream.
He fitted the nock against the string,
Raised the weapon and fired at the king.
The head tore the tyrant's chest in half,
Blood splurted 'round the golden shaft.
Dead at last was the wizard, Krow.
The warrior pulled out the arrow, slow
From the hole, and thrust his hand
Inside, beyond earth's finite band;
Back through timelessness, to the distant past,
Till he clutched the cross of Daramast,
And he drew it forth from the bloody breast
Of the traitor who slaughtered the wizards of Glest.
Then a foul stench of rank decay
Pervaded the room as if it were sprayed,
And the body of the tyrant lay,
A grim, grey heap of discarded waste.
When the crowd realized the king was dead,
They leaped to their feet and quickly fled.
The boy still held the scarlet cross
And he lifted its heavy weight aloft
As he sang the Vengeance Chant, then blessed
The souls of the murdered wizards of Glest.
***
The Stalker
There's death in the air,
I can feel it tonight.
The wind's shrill and cold,
And the sky's lost its light.
A delicate chill's
Worked its way up my spine,
And the blade in my hand feels so fine, so fine.
The moon's disappeared
And the alley is dark,
Blacker than black
And as cold as my heart.
With a rush he's on me;
My breathing is pained,
Then I'm lying alone on my back in the rain.
I'm lying alone;
There's no sound, there's no word,
Just the rain on my face,
And my eye-sight is blurred.
My reason is gone
There's no thought in my mind
Except the dark life I am leaving behind.
***
The Terreneyede
With wings stretched homeward, see him glide,
Master of the Terreneyede.
Returned from battles in the west,
He rides the current's mighty crest.
His sl'vry hair is soft and fine,
His eyes are as blue as the trebla vine
That grows in the steamy heat of Wome,
In the land the Terreneyede call home.
His flesh is pale as the distant stars.
His wings span fifty hectamars
And are white as the clouds through which he flies
As he glides across the azure skies.
His home is high in the Drawde tree,
Where his wife and children wait patiently
For the return of their warrior, bold;
For when the days turn harsh and cold
They warm their hearts with thoughts of him,
While he fights the vicious Daradim
Or raids the north coast in search of food
To bring to his hungry mate and brood.
He's a soldier, a husband, a father, a rival
Of all Mother Nature in the war for survival;
But he lives for the time he soars 'cross the skies
And he'll fly 'til he dies, 'til he dies.
***
The Witch's Hellsong
"Shake the world and slaughter stone;
Slaughter the multitude, pick their bones.
Show me your power, mighty one.
Show me your strength or leave me alone.
Have done with your game;
No more trial or tests, just shout your name.
If you're really who you claim,
Split the universe, leave it in flames.
In your majesty shred air;
Blast the vile creatures! Cleave and tear!
Topple empires with your stare.
Arise! Wreak your vengeance, if you dare.
I have sought you for so long.
If you are the master of the Throng,
Hear my spell. I feel the prong
Of your pitchfork and your hoof is strong.
So, if you really are the first,
Give me the power for which I thirst."
A graveled voice spat a curse
And her bones were crushed, her body burst.
***
The Wizard With The Withered Leg
The wizard with the withered leg
Danced a jig on a wooden keg.
His cackle fell on the tavern floor,
Bounced off the walls and out the door.
And Moustren heard it as he passed;
It struck him like a bugle blast.
Through the old oak door he slipped
And drew the broadsword from his hip.
At the wizard's feet he threw a sack.
A head rolled from it, green and black.
The women shrieked, men stepped as
ide,
And rage was in the wizard's eye.
"Here's your king and here's your crown!"
Moustren tossed the circlet down.
The wizard smiled in the gloom,
"It seems, young man, you've chose your doom!"
Lightning flashed from his fingertips,
A sardonic smile played on his lips,
And Moustren's felt his heart turn cold
As he fell headlong through an icy hole.
But the wizard never saw the maid
Nor heard the swish of the heavy blade.
Intent on Moustren, he never knew
His death until his foul head flew.
As Moustern crumpled in a heap
On the tavern floor, the young maid leaped
To his side and held him in her heat
'Til his heart was warm and began to beat.
Then he rose and took her by the hand
As they rode away to a distant land
While the wizard's evil kingdom fell
And the wizard roasted down in hell.
***
'Tis A Worm That Squirms
'Tis a worm that squirms
In the slimy earth.
'Tis vermin that breeds
'Neath polluted seas.
It grows unheeded,
Unnoticed, unstopped,
'Til it swells putrid
And smelling of rot.
It lives in the waste
That men create;
Biding it's time
It silently waits,
Drifting in and out with the tide.
And it's reach is long;
It's tentacles strong.
It's shape uncertain
Shifting and changing;
'Til it makes it's move
And death lies waiting.
A horrible death
With no abating.
The scientists all
Very quickly are called.
The question is asked,
They jump to the task
And develop a new pesticide.
And mankind is saved
From the monster they made.
The garbage is sank
In the sea that stank
The gray floating mold
Soon covers the hole,
And soon is forgot
All the lessons taught.
They heap more garbage,
Produce more sewage,
Develop toxics
And shrug uncaring;
But off the coast floats silent eyes.
***
'Twas Only In Fun
" 'Twas only in fun,
My dear foolish one,
Don't take it so seriously.
Please don't come undone;
Put away your gun.
There's really no need for a scene."
I don't think she heard
A single word
After he told her goodbye.
Then as he sniggered,
She pulled the trigger
And smiled as she watched him die.
***
Where Is The Maiden
Where is the maiden who used to dwell