(Dedicated to the memory of Robert E. Howard—and with sincere condolences to the unfortunate plight of Karl Edward Wagner’s larger-than-legend character Kane.)
The River Styx flows whispering;
Its myst’ry-misted song to sing.
Its waters, black as anthracite,
Trailed sensuous tendrils to invite,
Submerged my soul in darkest night—
(My body it left free.)
Ten thousand years I roamed this land;
Imprudently I tasted life.
And countless times I came to stand
And watch dear friends return to sand;
Watched them fall beneath the knife
Of grave misfortune, age and strife
[...more...]
