The dark has come
As it must
It quashes all gleams with pregnant

The burning of mans doctrine is muffled and done
Styx flows on a scorched furrowed sun

Light was mother
Languid fount
In her womb blossom and stars did mount
But her off beams channel fables doom her lover
As swathes of black her smile do cover

Now antlered rule
Also the meek
On pews of fractured void, rules oblique
A vaulted realm crafted in blindness base in all
Her quiet shades in palaces pool

Reality
Is sightless
Without thought treasure without us
Yet with something it builds its mighty mute city
With exultant

and pity

The moon shall rise
As it must

But it shall be crushed.