A poem by Fisher kel Tath "You see naught but flesh in the wrought schemesthat stitch every dancein patterns of rising —the ritual of our daysour lives bedeckedwith precious importas if we stand unbolsteredbefore tables feast-heavyand tapestries burdenedwith simple deedsare all that call usand all that we call uponas would flesh blood-swollenby something other than need.But my vision is not soprivileged and what I seeare the bones in ghostly motion,the bones who are theslaves and they weavethe solid world underfootwith every stride you take." ―Slaves BeneathFisher kel Tath
Attributes | Values |
---|---|
rdfs:label |
|
rdfs:comment |
|
dcterms:subject | |
dbkwik:malazan/pro...iPageUsesTemplate | |
abstract |
|