Early Days

Early Days

Weeps yet a new brave world
for foul tomorrow?
Nay, greets each bright new morn
and shields it's sorrow

Barks the new brand man
and brays his triumph
little thoughts of distant
coming dyings

Holds aloft his arms
and grasps the Sun's beam
future light is stilled
in darkened dreams

Rattles hard his spears
and stalks the stalker
all future hunts will turn
upon the Walker