The Hall of Heroes

A lord there dwelt of ages old, the stone his only kin.
It was a place of vague regret, a hall of secret sin.
There were no hopes of hope within; 'twas empty as the sea,
Where all eterne the siren burns for olden treachery.

And scorched airs flowed between its walls, the winds of ancient pride;
A tear there dropped upon a tear, the furious siren's tide.
Inside this man did passions hide, the bounties of the flame,
And he mundane secured the chain that bound the titan's shame.

The copper sky at times of dusk did lend a weighted hue
Unto the slate that earthen bore a deep and somber blue,
And for this shade, the cold earth knew the wisdom found in age.
The huntress gold an arrow pulled from out her woven sage.

This airy thorn of ether will did through the darkness fly,
And all toward he who held the seat that fated fate to scry.
All born of wind and mystic breeze, the piercing shriek did rend,
Until through all the mournful hall the god of gods did send.

And all at once it smote him down, the keeper of the night,
And he did fall into the sea, too weary for its might.
The flames swift came upon the tide, the stone-shards close at hand,
And arrow gold so boldly told the failing of his land.

5/23/05