Dew is the tears of lonely gods
Which soaks the barren earth;
And rain is the misery
Of what they once owned,
And all they have obtained.

Still, when the North wind howls,
The gods lament the fall of mankind.
And the ivory snows bemoan their own
Stagnant forgetfulness.

The fiery eye of the azure sky
Burns on without a tear,
Indifferent to the land beneath
Which dies with the sorrow of us all.

But the gods stare upon their dying creation
Wondering what went wrong;
While darkness folds its icy wing
About the withering nation.

Turning their backs upon their dead pride,
The gods weep and moan their barrenness;
While that all below has seeped under
The ghastly shawl of chaos.

Alas, I sit amidst the misery,
Crying tears of blood;
While all the ruins of society
Wilt away into oblivion.

Darkness, the velvet void,
wrenches at my consciousness,
So with all my might, I defy!
But the heavens are dead and wasted.

So as I close my weary eyes,
I notice the dread of all,
That for all eternity,
I shall dream as I live . . .


Copyright 1998, Steven Lynn Reeder