A LAMB'S GIFT
A LAMB'S GIFT A dark Lord roars and hauls the sun to his dead isle where moans rip love. Tides of gore surge as six fiends rise tails hurl tar rocks that spew green gas song rasps in throes; all coral rays fade. A horn blasts “Woe! O haste great lamb!” His sweet lance wings; three ruby nails blaze... Sign in to see full entry.