Sorceror!, the presence of that cat on
your lap might temporarily calm the fears of
those who dread the thoughts that reolve in
your bulbous headl The land now dimly
gray---colors of iron and concrete: the
red flag flutters provocatively above.
Prince and Princess, sibilings, have
(for the moment) escaped your clutches---
both of them and their boyfriends, along with
Yatsko, the dead Poet's lover. Even now,
Yakov the Sverdlo and Yakov the Yurovsky,
the Slaughterers, do not have much to
say in your presence. The hemorrhage that will
soon end your life has just begun to seep.
Son of the Hammer and Strong as Steel, your golems,
will see that your legacy towers above the
sea of blood they will raise to your name, your
statues sculpted in every town and village,
your grimoires studied in every school and college.
Strong as Steel, was once an awkward boy,
clad in an oversized shirt and baggy trousers,
barefoot in a wildflower meadow; pursuer of poems:
Soselo, whom you slew and raised, out of his decomposition,
Strong as Steel, your devoted, and devious, servant.
Starward