Reflections

In the wake of the silent gods

All aligned and with laurel vine

In township with a shape of doom

The concrete falls upon our ground

And all of our love turns to brown

Damascus burns in the fiery shroud

The glittery cape shall walk in shape

The old line shrieks in the reality

The heron has flown to the sea

And all of our joy turns the key

Coal black eyes have pierced the dawn

Intrepid waves across the golden sands

A cold grasp of the deepest desires

The awakened king shall turn his crown

To face the orchards in tempest sounds

As the waters lift to see 

The full flask of humanity

A bishop laughs to the scream

The pillars hold the sinking dream

And all of our time drifts to dawn