The King of Empty Lands
I am the King of Empty Lands,
Where sunlight westers and then subsides,
And drips its purpling blue before it hides
Below horizons with violet rays.
As dusk diminishes the reds to greys
I pace my ruined parapet and sing.
I am the King of Empty Lands,
And I sing languid and lonesomely
Of pomp and emperies of Used-to-Be,
And fierce crusades out to the world’s far edge,
And then the leather-shielded driving wedge
Of fiends whose blades we soon were bloodying.
I am the King of Empty Lands,
And I hear spears on castle stones below…
My guards are slain! I am the last, I know,
And still I sing upon the evening air,
Indifferent if brutes ascend my stair—
I crave oblivion their axes bring!
1977
Copyright © Steve Eng | Year Posted 2008
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