by Mike Monroe
let me tell you of a man of many wiles
a man who wandered many paths of exile
one of equal temper to heroic hearts
made weak by time and fate but strong in will
to strive to seek to find and not to yield
he put on swift wings and towards the gates of hell
explored his solitary flight
the perilous path was planted
and a river and a spring
he followed wandering fires
lost in the quagmire
and by degrees he beheld the infinite abyss
fiery as the smoke of a burning city
beneath him at an immense distance
was the sun black but shining
and through the drifts the snowy cliffs
sent a dismal sheen
he saw no shapes of men nor beasts
the ice was all between
through caverns measureless to man
down to a sunless sea
he threw himself
face down on the mound of the grave
drenching the gravestone
with tears that flooded the letters of his name
made weak by time and fate but strong in will
to strive to seek to find and not to yield
he followed wandering fires
lost in the quagmire
through caverns measureless to man
down to a sunless sea
the sun was black but shining
and through the drifts the snowy cliffs
sent a dismal sheen
he saw no shapes of men nor beasts
the ice was all between
and by degrees he beheld the infinite abyss
and on he rode and greater was his thirst
then flashed a yellow gleam across the world
and he came back
and cut down a branch with a single cluster of grape leaves
day after day
day after day
he was stuck without breath or motion
as idle as a painted ship
upon a painted ocean
he came to the land to which he was sent
it flowed with milk and honey
yet the people who lived in the land were strong
and the towns were fortified and very large
far off from these a slow and silent stream
the river of oblivion rolls her watery labyrinth
and by degrees he beheld the infinite abyss
fiery as the smoke of a burning city
the sun was black but shining
and through the drifts the snowy cliffs
sent a dismal sheen
he saw no shapes of men nor beasts
the ice was all between
and terror in his eyes he made for the cave
through caverns measureless to man
down to a sunless sea
faster than east wind
and fear gave wings to his feet
and now against his will
day after day
day after day
calypso keeps him captive in her grotto
as idle as a painted ship
upon a painted ocean
with tears that flooded the letters of his name
made weak by time and fate
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