POETRY and PREJUDICE

to all of you who recognize themselves in my work:
i'm not a hack. i don't write to please you. there's this one rule here:
if you have had even the slightest influence on my life,
i. will. write. about. you.
deal with it.
happy reading!

вторник, 12 юни 2012 г.

Assassin

I hear the winds are blowing againts the window,
the nights seem darker as time goes by,
the streets are empty and the lights they trickle.
Who wanders shelterless outside tonight?

The corners, the meadows, the houses, the deepest forests,
he roves them all and hides from the light.

The rumours do not speak but whisper
of disingenuous warrior of the dark.
His bloody blade is made of mist and terror,
his name remains unknow to us so far.

The dungeons, the caves, the mazes, abandoned cities,
he knows them all and hides from the light.

There aren't many able to confront him,
it's said he is the mightest of our time.
Nor kids, nor old men, nor even the women
are spared by his strong remorseless hand.

Oh, there will not be roofs or walls unbroken,
for he's immortal and he hates the light.

So lock the gates and let down all the curtains,
and pray that he will not attend this town.
Oh, who will save our lives in days of danger?
It seems that he was born beyond The Wall.

The corners, the meadows, the houses, the deepest forests,
he roves them all and hides from the light.

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