20.3.14

Association String #4

Black barrier-holds gates blazing with horses of yore blazing with tidings of woe blazing with tributes and slaves and gold a-plenty. Once went a boy black in sight black in skin through these gates betwixt bars of cold cold brass that sang as he did pass; and the wizard monk who counselled who counselled the consuls far, far, far and wide quite wide did naught but beckon him inside yes, you, beckon you inside, come on, yes, inside. And how they laughed and sang in that fort o’ fairies, that castle-keep that brooked no trespass that broke no stranger passing t’rough, but settled solemn settling solemn set solemn for the king, upon his gale-force horse, with the cold cold brass starting to sing.

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