In olden days of yore,

Houses of stone and soot,

Flaming tears and mauve sky,

Where land cracks like parchment-

The deluge of dragons:

Waterless flood of fear.

Sword of Excalibur

Driven into the heart

Of a serpentine beast.

The silver of this sword

Now bears rouge complexion

As it chops these great stalks.

Weep, you early voices,

Riddle it in [1]Samhain

And pray o’er my body.