Here stand the worthy at a gathering
Beneath the falling sun, lost in it
Inoculated against decaying time
The poison in their veins a balm of fire
Drawn from a well at the world’s center.
The streets of Elysium are empty tonight
Rivers overrun by cleansing fire
Scorching the sky at the backs of the gathered
Who wait out the contagion, calling upon
The artist of destruction to save them.
Shadow from the stars come to bear the weight
Of a world given way to the light of day
Upon raised hands the offering breathes black smoke
Exhales a song that lives beyond the burning shore
Where the voices seek their rest.
There was once a map that pointed the way
But now it’s lost in the fire.

And the voice that cried out over the black water lamented the flame. Those who heard it were struck with fear, and knew that retribution was at hand. They prayed to the night, begging for forgiveness, but the only response was silence. Dismayed, the gathering broke rank and each left to seek shelter from the coming end. One by one they discovered hidden places to wait, and all were swallowed by shadow. Outside, the fire raged on.

Image by LoggaWiggler from Pixabay