Harbingers of unimagined
horrors, Avatars of those who rule the night, Lurking in the shallows of our
shadows Like fish that lack the lungs to breathe
the light; Omens from an almanac of sorrows Written on a midnight long ago, Etched into the mirrors of our
marrows, Ever masks for what we dare not know: Now revel with us till the cocks thrice
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.