6.
His bony sagging arse galloped the maze.
A guide to the land that foretold my end.
I read it like a seeing stone at Amon Sul.
But I was unable to predict the mischief
and unable to protect myself from it.
So, I went back again and again
until I began to look like him.
My eyes grew large and weak and bulbous.
The hair fell from my flaky scalp.
But there was a light beneath the weariness
that I did not like.
For it was unlike any light of moon or sun
or any light that I had ever known.
It was sickly yellow and confused.
From the marshes of the dead long gone.
It was the little candles of the corpses
that flickered from beneath the ground.
It was the light of doom that shone.
