Strider

by May 6, 2003Poetry

I am as I am, yet ever a lie
And weary am I of the night,
Of the darkness that covers the moon,
And the stars, like a chokeing shroud
Untouched by the dawn
And feeding of the toil of war.

I live where I live, but never belong,
Hushed whispers lie in my wake,
And I live by the sword, aught I fear,
Yet my blood, it may lead me to my end,
And my story was told, before I was born,
Yet only one shall ever know me.

I speak when I speak, forever a King,
Of the mortal men of my kin,
Fighter, may I be, but never to be,
For I do not wish to seek power sought.

I am as I am, yet ever a lie
And weary am I of the night,
Of the darkness that covers the moon,
And the stars, like a chokeing shroud
Untouched by the dawn
And feeding of the toil of war.

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