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The 'Morrow Watcher

Beyond the gates of Cravgalance,

The 'Morrow Watcher waits.

Behold, ye fate

The crippled seer,

All broken in his bones.

He slobbers,

Whimpers,

Rolls the die,

As future fog unrolls.

He cackled, coughs,

And beckons you,

With leather,

Spotted hands,

"I'll tell you nothing that I've seen,

Go craft your own life plan."

A bribe, a perk, 

Some coin or food, 

He doesn't work for free, 

And if you dare,

Just meet his eye,

And see a smile form,

"I'll tell you what you want to hear,

But first a favor, please."

You'll quickly find,

Knowing fate,

Not worth the price he asks.

Or else you'll meet,

The same grim fate, 

Of others who've taken the task. 

Beyond the gates of Cravgalance,

The 'Morrow Watcher waits, 

And tempts with glimpses of the future,

Trading souls for fate. 

A Bard's Tale

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