The Dark Tower (3 ratings) by Mark Wells
THE DARK TOWER
Cobalt waterfall like mantle swirled in the stiff breeze,
I stood transfixed between ancient trees.
Clouds gathered sable black,
Clinging to the mountains snowy cap.
With a salvo hail pelted the land,
Dark goings on which I couldnt understand.
Entering the lair once again,
I leered into the campfire as rain began to stain.
Honey dancing, showy rays,
Abstract faces appeared in smoky haze.
A tower tall, an evil place,
Once cerebral now adorned with spider lace.
Stonework scarred, worn by weather,
Oozed black fluids almost blood like liquor.
I starred closed into the flaming vision,
Tongue like wisps seemed to call, seemed to beckon.
Dancing waves, wind I feel them all,
Faces resume expressionless in the tower wall.
A place in the grip of death,
Like melted ointment I felt its breath.
Then a face met mine it blazed,
A smile so evil as I sat and gazed.
According to whose command one rules,
That is mine wizard, anointed in the tower pool.
You cannot stop what is in the stars,
Darkness will reign my army will scar.
In one melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
The fire explodes Im slammed to the floor.
Swept by alarm I pack and take flight,
The Dark Tower would not clash once again at night.
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Copyright © 2002 Mark Wells, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. The author has submitted the work in accordance with and in agreement with the following Submission Guidelines
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