things surface in the darkness
fair and foul alike
from these dark waters
i have swam and wept these ashen waters
when the fevers of fear and sadness
have swept over me drowning me in
their hostile dreams
when the dark overwhelmed me
when the worlds rough hand has toppled the
ivory towers of greed and lust

i found refuge in this darkness
where your face need not be your own
where skill with pen or sword achieve the same ends
but  these long years on the narrow mile
tilling the dead soil have only harvested shadows
i wish for better crops to be sown which to
set the paintbrush of my pen upon
so i stand here at the gap in the breezeway
and step tentative to the light
to meet favour and fortunes
or death and shadow

should i meet death
i shall drink and sup with him
break unleavened breads and regale him
with fanciful tales of the far east
distract him while you slip away
to plant the seeds of our hopes
or wreak the havocs of our dooms
i shall be as a companion of this mad reaper
i shall be as counsel and cage to his worried mind
keeping at bay the ravenous hounds of his delight
and feeding the crying children of his fears
for are we not all children of light
and we should not turn aside this chance to bend
the fates in our favour
against this strong foe
should i meet death and live to tell the tale
i shall feast this night
and drink the strong ale