Night-lightened hollows For moonbeams and martyrs Caught crisply between The surreal and departed Where firm voices falter From trenches and altars And compasses point To those few iron-hearted I was a rascal Some nuisance at best Nurtured by turmoil Like bastard to breast My heroes were bandits Marauders and rogues Shrewd villains with badges Of war on their chests So murder came deftly From finger to blade In silence fell shadows A tyrant's parade Valleys of star-patterned Moon-speckled malice Caught crisply between The maw and the chalice Where voices dismayed Shout from chains and stockades And broken hands reach For those few unafraid