A Dark
lord's Lament
(his sorrowful
sonnet)
by Barbara Robson
When morning light does pry awake
my mind
and grudgingly, my limbs begin to stir
I wonder why the gods are so unkind
but satisfy myself the clock must err
I close the light to block away the light
and draw the rug above my aching head
for surely it is still the dead of night
and careful overlords are still in bed.
Though ogres battle men on my behalf
as heroes drive my armies from their lands
I’d rather sleep than wield the cursed staff
that brought the taint of evil to my hands.
I only wished to cast a little charm
upon a pretty girl; I meant no harm!