Friday, April 25

The Questing Beast (or Glatisant)

I wander pearled sands, murkish glens, earth tunnels damp and black,
Seeking the evasive beast, the creature Glatisant.
This onus ever has been mine—to take the thing intact.

The days, they rage upon me now; each year it bolder grows.
Its irrepressible temperament I no more than ever know.

The diversions that so enthrall my prey are Deplhian to me;
Its shameful deeds, frenetic whims lack not of devilry.

Ever a step behind the foe,
I dream this beast had never been.
The walls it builds repel all from
Its sacred lair, its secret den.

My steps are always in its feet--
My Glatisant, my terrible sweet:

Oh, lost is all when at last I see
The beast I’ll never find . . .

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