The claw's have cut, give unto you.
That fell to the Capricorn's horns in the court.
Hades is there, below Tartarus.
Walking through the fog and heat.
Say lover, have you ever seen,
Spectators of the bard's scene?
Rather the fate, of the writer.
Or the love of a lover, birth or death.
When after many a thunder clap,
On moonless nights, the Harpies keep watch.
With their on dark, dark nights,
Too see is impossible.
To see them once is enough,
Too know what lurks in the shadows.
/ F /