November 26, 2011

Lines from Robert E. Howard

Drums of glory are lost in the ages,
Bare feet fail on a broken trail. --
Let my name fade from the printed pages;
Dreams and visions are growing pale.
Twilight gathers and none can save me,
Well and well, for I would not stay:

What of the world that I leave forever?
Phantom forms in a fading sight --
Carry me out on the Ebon River --
Into the night.

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