Author Information
Beckon
There once existed a man
who had hands entrenched in blue
portals that connected our
world to all Oblivion.
Stone, talismanic wardens,
bound by lightning chained to reins
and given gullet of cloud;
they vomit stormy weather
and serve to his whims and needs.
Though they churn and rumble rock,
they always cease at his word.
He bears no chants for chanting,
no fallacies for parade -
he asks but just one favor,
which was muffled by his helm.
We gave him Sanctuary,
saw him off next morning.
We did some final trading,
and gave to him our antique.
