The Dead Stare

The Juggler stares To quench the thirst Upon the brow Within the hand It cracks and seeps The seer weeps In flickering light The wounds are served Screams from below A shadow in chains Feverish images told In mirrors of old The eyes they all share In this tragic court An empty seat The river runs dry Nothing said Words in red Behold the druid As the stones fall Known aloud turned Backwards around Reverse the loss This never was