Explore "Skull-Face" by Robert E. Howard on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Here now in his triumph where all things falter, / Stretched out on the spoils that his own hand spread, / As a God self-slain on his own strange altar, / Death lies dead. " / -- Swinburne.
Slowly I drifted back into life -- slowly, slowly. A mist held me and in the mist I saw a Skull -- --