NIGHT MAGIC (SEQUEL TO KING SIRA)

A rose girl sighs and strews her pods

stars fire old gems to blast the smog.

By glint of moon a tree plays pipes

as mares fan wings and roe deer clap.

The dark bile wanes; a red soul fits

sun robes the maid; it spins gold joy.

Her eyes brim love to gift man songs

a pink horn blows; she veils her face

to gaze on hope; the King's blest heir.

KING SIRA

A king falls gored by darts of fire

The skies rain soot; a foul gas coils.

It rots pure buds; grey lips ooze tar

and split rare trees that waltz in joy.

Man howls for life but sinks to mist

Gales hurl the ash of once high lords.

O woe gilt souls who drift here blind

The red ghoul stalks to slime his prey.