A Kingdom Is Not Lost By A

Wits And Swords Are As Straws Against The Wisdom Of The Darkness.

All Fled—all Done, So Lift Me On The Pyre— The Feast Is Over, And The Lamps Expire.

What Do I Know Of Cultured Ways, The Gilt, The Craft And The Lie? I, Who Was Born In A Naked Land And Bred In The Open Sky. The Subtle Tongue, The Sophist Guile, They Fail When The Broadswords Sing; Rush In And Die, Dogs—i Was A Man Before I Was A King.

Animals Are Neither Gods Nor Fiends, But Men In Their Way Without The Lust And Greed Of Man.

Break The Skin Of Civilization And You Find The Ape, Roaring And Red-handed.