The Death-Song of Conan the Cimmerian

The road was long and the road was hard, 
And the sky was cold and grey: 
The dead white moon was a frozen shard 
In the dim dawn of day: 
But thief and harlot, king and guard 
Warrior, wizard, knave and bard 
Rode with me all the way. 
The wind was sharp as a whetted knife 
As it blew from the wet salt seas; 
The storm wind stirred to a ghostly life 
The gaunt black skeletal trees: 
But I drank the foaming wine of life 
Wine of plunder and lust and strife 
Down to the bitter lees. 
A boy, from the savage north I came 
To cities of silk and sin. 
With torch and steel, in blood and flame, 
I won what a man may win: 
Aye, gambled and won at the Devil's game 
Splendor and glory and glittering flame 
And mocked at Death's skull-grin. 
And there were foemen to fight and slay 
And friends to love and trust: 
And crowns to conquer and toss away 
And lips to taste with lust: 
And songs to keep black nights at bay 
And wine to swill to the break of day 
What matter the end be dust? 
I've won my share of your gems and gold 
They crumble into clods: 
I've gorged on the best that life can hold: 
And the Devil take the odds: 
The grave is deep and the night is cold 
The world's a skull-full of stinking mould 
And I laugh at your little gods! 
The lean road slunk through a blasted land 
Where the earth was parched and black. 
But we were a merry, jesting band 
Who asked no easier track: 
Rogue and reaver and firebrand 
And life rode laughing at my right hand 
And Death rode at my back. 
The road was dusty and harsh and long 
Crom, but a man gets dry! 
I'm old and weary and Death is strong 
But flesh was born to die: 
Hai, Gods! But it was a merry throng 
Rode at my side with jest and song 
Under an empty sky. 
I've heard fat, cunning priestlings tell 
How damned souls writhe and moan: 
That paradise they can buy and sell 
For gold and gold alone: 
To the flames with scripture and priest as well 
I'll stride down the scarlet throat of hell 
And dice for the Devil's throne! 
I faced life boldly and unafraid 
Should I flinch as Death draws near? 
Life's but a game Death and I have played 
Many a wearisome year: 
Hai! to the gallant friends I made 
Slave and swordsman and lissome maid 
I begrudge no foot of the road I strayed 
The road which endeth HERE!