Reign of Madness (King's Dark Tidings, #2)

by Kel Kade

In the darkness with no ember, cold coals bear no flaming tinder, All the shadows man resemble, in the darkness wise men tremble. Prodigious foes made thee for pointless sake of prosaic power; Visited upon thyself no vestige of vision by late night’s hour; In the stillness of normal eve, in longing for the night’s reprieve, In air and earth arise a faint and subtle shift – ‘tis folly’s gift. With tremulous breath, whisper faintly from thy spirit’s tower – “Woe to me!” thy soul says – “Cometh nigh the Rez.” Know not the source of sudden searching – terrorizing, inner lurching, Not of fallen feet on fitted floors or creaks and sways of distant doors; Know ye cometh darkness, ‘tis this oath of righteous reign’s foul reaping, In the silent stillness plead thy heart doth surcease salient streaking. But why within, the heated rush, when without, all’s well and hush?