Poems of Narad

Voice from Below

Nov. 6, 1968

I am the evil voice that laughs
At pain and sorrow, the struggle of elves,
You who would bring God down on earth
Pathetic are your fragile selves.

Fighting confused in blind rages caught
Senseless and vague are your movements of thought,
Pettiness, ignorance dictate your lives.
Ending at last in an empty Nought.