Feature: Haunt of Thieves (four)

Posted by ractrose on 27 Aug 2017 in Art, Poems

short lieutenant with talismanic skull Haunt of Thieves (four)

Haunt of Thieves 


Ravens hear the trembling gong’s alarm

Harbinger of rolling earth

Far away as yet but coming near

(Birds of the air may take to flight

Men and cities cannot do)

Souls they carry heavenward, on each feather tip

The lost descends to touch in parting

A temple of her beloved

Her fingers brush and cling to

His brow as a cobweb might

Lightning flares behind closed eyes

A momentary flowing together in exile

Of ghost

And death-in-life

She speaks before the whirlwind takes her

In spirit-language of old awakened sights

Demons they have imprisoned in a maze of circled lines

Etched by knife

Gafeidda can only trace the path again

Here is the short lieutenant with his grin

He holds a bottled soul in an outstretched hand

“Even the way in which our goddess carves the land

Proves us conquerors…we are invulnerable and


and you

Like a fly hatched in an empty barn

Beat at the window while the sun glares—

The way is barred

You waste your time and the Shepherd knows”

These men are watchers and have seen

The sated flood below them roar

Where limbs of the floating dead

Entangled form a foaming raft

Of maggots shadowed by a trailing swarm

And this horror thrills the lieutenant

He feels that she favors his side, has chosen

A lofty place for them above the squalor

Their magic thus the stronger


The Shepherd where the path

Descends no lower

Shrouded there waits by the pillared stone

Toothed and tapered like a broken axe-head

And his face is white like bone

This rock he calls Aantahah—Ancient Father

His hand is raised and his eyes see nothing



The Bride

Try Tourmaline (short story)


(copyright 2015 Stephanie Foster)



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mystery plays cover Haunt of Thieves (four)

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Book Two: Haunt of Thieves


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