Solstice

A gloom is resting in my blood.

The sun is dead, my soul is damp,

The street's beneath a muddy flood

In blackness, broken by the lamp-

This orange glow where raindrops hang

Leads me to peace from moody skies,

Beneath the weathered roofs of man

To warm myself from nature's lies.

 

We once were born as beasts to brave

The tyranny of Mother's reign

Yet would not idly be enslaved

To her indignities and chains.

We wrought instead our weapons own

And made a graveyard of the world

In serving He who sat our throne,

The mighty and immortal God.

 

This task was mystical as He

Yet knowing that it must be done

Their swords are swinging endlessly

To prove they serve the one true Sun.

Winter will creep behind their backs

And bleed from gurgling throats their goals

But lights in darkness show the track

To plug the ruined castle's holes.

 

A gloom's infested in my bones,

I know no guiding light to lead

My body to the castle's stones

To light the torches of my creed.

So now I huddle dry and weak

And drink my tea before the box,

Imbibe electric light and heat

And peel off my winter socks.