Dark-feather father of
Deceit, mischief and evasion
Has been stokin’ his summer,
Drum –sin, tense-skin stove.
Dry, death-beckon dust,
Recalls the terrible, gong-ring thunder
Of the last Ragnorak –
That saddest of conflicts:
Bloody faith turning in
On its own convictions:
Tearing believers to gibbering shells.
High, hold-heaven skies
Understand the difference between
Axeman, innocent and chorister;
Know that shelter is promised to none
And that survival is no guarantee of sanity.