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An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

A poem by Toc Anaster. "I went in search of deathIn the cast down wreckageOf someone's temple naveI went in search among flowersNodding to the wind's wordsOf woeful tales of warI went among the blood troughsBehind the women's tentsAll the children that never wereAnd in the storm of ice and wavesI went in search of the drownedAmong bony shells and blunt wormsWhere the grains swirledEach and every one crying outits name its life its lossI went on the current roadsThat led me nowhere knownAnd in the still mists afieldWhere light itself crept uncertainI went in search of wise spiritsMoaning their truths in dark loamBut the moss was silent, too dampto remember my searchFinding at lastwhere the reapers sowCutting stalks to take the seasonI failed in my proud questTo a scything flint bladeAnd lyi

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  • Before Q'uson Tapi
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  • A poem by Toc Anaster. "I went in search of deathIn the cast down wreckageOf someone's temple naveI went in search among flowersNodding to the wind's wordsOf woeful tales of warI went among the blood troughsBehind the women's tentsAll the children that never wereAnd in the storm of ice and wavesI went in search of the drownedAmong bony shells and blunt wormsWhere the grains swirledEach and every one crying outits name its life its lossI went on the current roadsThat led me nowhere knownAnd in the still mists afieldWhere light itself crept uncertainI went in search of wise spiritsMoaning their truths in dark loamBut the moss was silent, too dampto remember my searchFinding at lastwhere the reapers sowCutting stalks to take the seasonI failed in my proud questTo a scything flint bladeAnd lyi
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dbkwik:malazan/pro...iPageUsesTemplate
abstract
  • A poem by Toc Anaster. "I went in search of deathIn the cast down wreckageOf someone's temple naveI went in search among flowersNodding to the wind's wordsOf woeful tales of warI went among the blood troughsBehind the women's tentsAll the children that never wereAnd in the storm of ice and wavesI went in search of the drownedAmong bony shells and blunt wormsWhere the grains swirledEach and every one crying outits name its life its lossI went on the current roadsThat led me nowhere knownAnd in the still mists afieldWhere light itself crept uncertainI went in search of wise spiritsMoaning their truths in dark loamBut the moss was silent, too dampto remember my searchFinding at lastwhere the reapers sowCutting stalks to take the seasonI failed in my proud questTo a scything flint bladeAnd lying asward lost to summerBared as its warm carapaceof youthful promise was sent awayinto autumn's reliquary skyUntil the bones of nightWere nails glittering in the coldoblivion, and down the darknessdeath came to find me" ―Before Q'uson TapiToc Anaster
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