Enjoy...
They're not afraid of me. Their jackal-cries
And leaps, and shield-wall rattles are unfeigned,
Their iron-shod angry spear-tips upward trained
Perchance to pierce my black, unarmored eyes.
They're not afraid. Nor would I be, though I
Were mortal e'en as they, and small as they
And knew my sun had wheeled its final day
Across a singed and melancholy sky.
(It's over.) In the distance fades the roar
Of my lieutenants, whose unruly song
Gloats throaty over trophies, braying long.
I fly instead to silence at the core,
Whose still-warm glowing rivers lurch and braid
And tumble at my eyebrows unafraid.
And leaps, and shield-wall rattles are unfeigned,
Their iron-shod angry spear-tips upward trained
Perchance to pierce my black, unarmored eyes.
They're not afraid. Nor would I be, though I
Were mortal e'en as they, and small as they
And knew my sun had wheeled its final day
Across a singed and melancholy sky.
(It's over.) In the distance fades the roar
Of my lieutenants, whose unruly song
Gloats throaty over trophies, braying long.
I fly instead to silence at the core,
Whose still-warm glowing rivers lurch and braid
And tumble at my eyebrows unafraid.
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