Evensong for Flock and Pack

Story by Rob MacWolf on SoFurry

, , ,

#9 of poetry

Found in an obscure pamphlet, this was initially categorized as an artifact of some unknown, esoteric Evangelicalism.

Dr. [REDACTED] disputed, argued it warranted further investigation, citing that does not contain any reference to any specifically Christian doctrines or images.

Dr. [REDACTED] countered to this, quote, "yeah, like esoteric Evangelicalism."

Dr. [REDACTED] here produced several not at all kind observations regarding Dr. [REDACTED]'s intellect and personal hygiene.

The controversy was sufficiently fruitless that the piece was removed and returned to the 'Uncategorized' section. Any agents who can reveal more information regarding this piece or its origins will have the gratitude of the Archival Department.

  • B.E.P.M. Archive Notes.

Save me a place by the fireside, love,

For nightfall's outrun me again.

There's miles upon miles I must walk somehow,

There's burdens on burdens I'm carrying now,

And when I come home--which I will, I vow--

I'll be needing that fireside then.

For who needs a place by the fireside more

Then the living who walk as the dead?

So save me a place by the fireside, love,

Before you go blindly to bed.

Save me a place by the fireside, man.

You must know what I have been through.

Who has not walked through the valley of death?

Who has not gagged when he tried to draw breath?

Who knows the weariness that wearieth

The halest of hearts, if not you?

You who have your place at the fireside now,

Do not crowd me out. Don't forget

To save me a place by the fireside, man,

Though I'll not arrive there yet.

Save me a place by the fireside, Lord.

Let thy will not turn me away.

Others may shy at the set of the sun.

Others may know where their paths will run.

Others prefer, when tis said and done,

The heat and the light of the day.

But the fireside is yours, and mine heart would be there

Though it be on the farthest shore.

So save me a place at thy fireside, Lord,

When at last I may wander no more.

And I Shall Rest

Sun going down. And I am far from home. Sun going down. And I'm out there alone. On the roads, I'm one more weary soul Searching for some place where I'll be whole. With my loaded backbone bending And the pain jolts up my arm. I will reach...

, ,

Mistolin, Compassionate to the Bereaved, Hear Me

He came to me when sunset filled the room. He smelled of sweat and sweet grass, as he does. His face was like the dark side of the clouds. His fangs were blooded. Dirt clung on his claws. His bruises purpled underneath his mane. His eyes were sad,...

, , ,

Fourth Man Left Outside

The wind was almost still. You could be forgiven for thinking there was none at all. It moved, nonetheless, from the intersection down the dark suburban street till it found the raccoon and mockingbird climbing the front steps of one unremarkable house...

, , , , , ,