Tales of a Poor Poge by Richard Palmer - HTML preview

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AUGUST 13, 1975

 

Black cave into which I wander,

Sudden darkness into which I walk,

What is this voice calling ahead?

An ancient memory is touched.

A hidden vision of demons
Who scream for the blood of the just

And prepare the tongs and the rack

To tear the hearts from those
Who weep with other’s weeping

And bleed with other’s bleeding.

O Ancient Enemy!
O Voice that is the lie to kill
In battle always have we been joined.

Again I go to meet you.
I go into the darkness ahead.