Late in the night, when shadows creep
O’er studded arch and rubbish heap,
A lone man lurks from alley to Keep
And does not sleep.
A lover implores him, “Come to bed,”
And so he lies ‘til a golden head
Falls sleep-heavy, but still he’s led
To the streets instead.
He walks the city wall to wall
To catch a thief or bloodrage thrall,
No roguish blades or warrior’s maul-
A staff is all.
“My guard can keep the city clear,”
A Captain insists, but he won’t hear.
“Go home! What do you seek out here?”
“…Nothing, my dear.”
He’ll fell some bandits on the docks,
And when it’s done, he’ll pace the blocks
And hear the waves against the rocks
Before he walks.
He learns the city stone by stone,
The only place he’s still unknown:
In solitude, where he’s his own.
The silence pierces to the bone,
And if there’s something he’d be shown,
He’ll find it alone.