INTE EGEN
And it is told that
He made his way through their streets at night,
Crawling through their many windows
And crouching in their gardens,
Moving through the sewers beneath their cobbled roads
And sleeping over their railings.
Watched by their cats
And the roosting pigeons of their city,
Yet wary of their slumbering dogs,
He went.
They wouldn’t see him,
Nor wake as he drew near,
But would only shudder,
Softly calling out the names of their gods in sleep.
Restless,
They tossed
As he passed under the window
Like an errant lover fleeing down.
And by morning light he was gone,
Away from that place,
And moved on to another world.