In mottled light of fall’s last moon
Comes now a shuffled form beraved
With halting step to eldritch tune,
A piper from an ancient grave.

By fire’s light in full revealed
A wasted form in sloven dress
Once fair ere spirit’s breath did yield
To Thanatos’ final caress.

Take heed unto thy learned wit
For madding spires the ghastly air
That ’round…Read more