Friday, August 13, 2004


When comes the winter of a human, and the former lords return,
Dragging back to the scholar, freshgreen and laden with books,
What beacons lit?
What unseen lands explored?
Any diamonds in the audit are covered by sterile snow.

So, says Bellerophon, child of war:
I will eye the old for the gall they perpetrate,
In fact, I will consider all for their mirror.