I cower down, as still as I can be, as overhead, up on high
Prowling dragon glides through cloudless sky
Glaring down, for the wyrm is endlessly hungry
I implore the gods its next small appetizer not be me— Ed Greenwood (@TheEdVerse) May 23, 2020
Day is done, the hour is late
The ghosts they gather at the gate
Waiting full night, when this realm is theirs again
Fresh chance to sew fear anew in every living brain
Yet in my dreams I know no pain
For thankfully, I’m already insane— Ed Greenwood (@TheEdVerse) May 25, 2020
The shades of night were falling fast
As the tax collector locked his coin-chest at last
And trudged off through the cold, cold snow and ice
In search of a warm haven where he could indulge in vice— Ed Greenwood (@TheEdVerse) May 26, 2020