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The presence felt alerts the senses strong,
An evil essence tightens tired nerves,
Disturbs the air and taints it with its wrong;
A man alone, no courage in reserves.
With weakened knees he falls to stone in fear
And cuddles cringing, shivering in despair.
Approaching feet is heard by one good ear.
He grabs his hilt in hope to find his dare.
Around his neck the crystal stone he wears
Illuminates the dark with warning light.
A wizard’s boon reminding him he cares,
He wants, he needs, he loves; to live is right!
He stands, he draws his sword, he takes a breath;
Then turns to fight the demon that is Death.
J. Abram Barneck.
Copyright © 2005 by Rhyous, Inc. All rights reserved.
Revised: 4 Jan 2003 12:35:40 -0700 .
