Dark Under the Dell
"I durst not go beyond this dell for any money..."
My hand aches;
Trembles flames before my eyes,
Bark crumbling from the brand beaneath my fingers.
Sparks shatter over my arm, yet I feel so terribly...terribly cold.
Our watchful ring of fire faces outward under this pale sliver of moon.
A meaningless boundary, this dell...
Our only hope a frail boundary of fire.
Beyond the frail touch of light, they drift up... shadows;
Dark holes torn in the warm fabric of night.
Unnatural. Drawn from another age, another war.
Desolate and malignant,
They are coming
Fear assails me, returning to clutch at my throat,
Pounds in my chest.
Suddenly alone, all illusive comforts swept away in a maelstrom.
Foreign to mine, another Will forces me down,
Drags me down to a fearful place.
I cannot do
Than to obey its
And if it desires
Even to that end I am taken, slowly, inexorably.
My own will scrabbles in vain for shreds of sanity with bloodied fingers,
I would defy them, I must.
Fire of brand behind me, fire of blade before,
Yet no light of living world can reach me,
Could they help me now.