An eye of the world, gazing out at all,
A great hunt for a Horn, sleeping heroes to call.
A Dragon Reborn, 'gainst the Dark One to stand -
Yet the shadow of night rises over the land.
Fires of heaven that flame in the sky,
A Lord of Chaos, to live or to die.
Swords make a crown that proclaims a new king -
On high paths, the clashes of daggers ring.
More parts of a prophecy remain to write;
Eight now are written, and the ninth is in sight -
But how long must we wait to find out what comes next?
Robert Jordan, your readers are greatly vexed.
Oh fellow WoT-readers, now hark to my words -
For a terrible tale have I recently heard,
That seems to confirm our greatest fear -
Book 9 won't be out for at least a year.
So come with me, riot outside the house
Where dwell the erring Creator and spouse,
Fly banners, wave pitchforks and torches that shine -
"MR JORDAN, HURRY UP WITH BOOK NINE!"
This poem has absolutely no pretensions to being
Quality Literature, but I thought you might like it anyway.
Raina's Hold / Raina's
Library / Raina's Library - Poetry