Poem: A Great Wizard’s Fall

I wrote this poem today for my big crazy magical LOTR-esque fantasy project.  Seeing as how it’s the twelfth anniversary of a day that a lot of brave men fell, you could just change the word “wizard” to “man”, and “wise” to “brave”.  Pretty accurately describes the way it felt that day.

(Side note:  I swear I came up with this on my own, but it feels oddly familiar.  Maybe it’s just reminiscent of W.H. Auden‘s Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.)

 

A Great Wizard’s Fall

The skies shall mourn

A great wizard’s fall

The rivers will quiet

No winds shall call.

The skies shall mourn

The wizard’s stumble

The fires die down

The mountains crumble.

The magician’s fall

Echoes ‘cross the land

For the skies themselves shall mourn

The death of a wise man.

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