the night aflame with torchlight.
I, a lonely traveler, stalked
across the plain, my home across
my back. The tower's gate in sight,
I hailed the man and found his son
who wandered through the night.
I asked for shelter and he told me
that in the kingdom's name
he would give me leave
to remain on the border
between dark and light
as long as I never again
fell in love with the night.
"It was a year better spent elsewhere,"
I said. "In the air, the ground,
in some hole of a cave
retreating from the world.
The night is merely a wanderer
without a home to find."
No comments:
Post a Comment