Waking up from slumber, From the corner of his eye He sees Pale figures moving closer Surreptitiously creeping with purpose, The prophet’s words ringing, “Stay awake, stay awake When the stars collide And the moon turns grey”.
Soon the phantoms arrive, Languid with their spectral air Then the demons and jackals, An odious substratum, approaching The mud pot, white liquid churning. The sentry must stay awake Guarding the potion As the frothy bubbles rise to the top.
But his eyes are closing; it's been a long night Even for this most heroic of earthlings As the vigil stretches......
