The Dark'ning of Days

September, 2015.

Gently scattering the leaves now flit and fly,
Silent clouds loom grey as granite giants,
And myriad spirits, by our ancestors
Known well to be feared,
Stalk the shadowy footfalls of men.

The ravens cry countless warnings,
The trees groan upon the wild'ning winds,
And old Lupus howls his alarm across the vales-
For Autumn is coming, the world dark’ning,
And the things that since the first dawn
Have fled the scorching spears of Light
Now ascend their chthonic thrones...

Our ancestors knew the signs to read,
They knew the natural turning of the tide,
As one year slowly fades and dies,
And the new year is birthed in darkness.
They knew to light the fires o'er the hills,
To stay their wand'rings close to hearth-
For they which revel in the dark’ning of days
Lust for the fall of Man.