What the phantom that stands before A formless substance I claim no more O shadowed soul o ghost of me I repent this philosophy Am I Kull? Or his reflection dim A shadow cast of that distant king A strange whim of lesser form A far flung dream on moonbeams born Gaze in to my mirrors, Let wisdom fall Time strides onwards, nations fall Strange are my visions What is truth? The mirrors of Tuzun Thune Earl or beggar, wizard or king Men desire just one thing Gold and power, or the thrill of war The single wisdom of stranger doors