The stranger waits alone outside the gate
And stares up at my window every night
With eyes so dead, yet filled with hellish light
And burning with his all-consuming hate.
Another night, another endless wait
Behind this curtain, trembling in my fright,
And though I try to hide me from his sight,
I know that I cannot escape my fate.
Tonight I learned the reason for his vigil
In those poisoned words upon the page,
The second act of some infernal play.
He has come to claim the ancient sigil
Chased in gold on onyx, dull with age,
Sent to earth to mark his Master's prey.
© 1997 Christopher B. Hicks
Visit Christopher's Page at Havenshold
First Appearance: Havenshold
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