It was the rite of ancient conquered kings
to walk between two halves of severed cow,
and swear to peace or face a beastly cleaving.
And now when flesh has won its coup
and great and dreadful darkness falls
I brace my halves that must by law undo.
But then before I’m razed to earth and scorch
a greater king commands a greater peace
with smoking fire pot and flaming torch.
