The Call of Agon – Book Trailer

The poem:

Darkness knows no better host
Than he, the agonised of all;
He knew intimately pain the most,
The every cry, great and small—
In sorrow he was claimed its thrall.

His master groomed him as a beast,
And, sheltered from the light divine,
He knew not the sun’s rise in the east,
Nor the ardent splendour of its shine—
The daylight was to him malign.

His cradle was his grave, his tomb,
And darkness was his consort then.
Fate casts webs that weave great doom
In the sunlit lives of foolish Men—
This world would know the night again!

His lord knew not his own successor
And cast dark pearls before his swine;
The shadow was the Beast’s confessor
And torture was his holy shrine—
In there he would both moan and pine.

He yearned to share his constant pain
Or end the world that gave him life;
No longer could the Beast sustain
His endless torment, ceaseless strife—
He took the shadow as his wife.

So now there is no shining light
And no sunrise, no waiting dawn,
No moon or stars to conquer night,
And soon our final breath is drawn
By the death-noose of the Beast Agon.

Excerpted from The Call of Agon by Dean F. Wilson