In the damp predawn air, there I was, I was there…
You were but a distant flare. A memory so fragile.
Eschston, the bitter dawn, the bottles of life hung off
Our arms. The breath of life drawn, pouring down, the
Stillness as cold as a dead pawn.
Emptiness is eternal in this camp. We igniting Life, a
Great lamp. These bitters of viscous oil, the DNA is our stamp.
Nothing alive to tamper with this camp.
Old sewers and swamps healed from the fall. Humpty Dumpty
Truly did have a great fall. The wish was tiny, our
Order was tall.
“Life is a gift, and please won’t you stay?” Our hopes
So high merely floated away. You never listened. You
The breath of life here again brimming to full.
A million years before when you harvest the wool. And still
We strive pressing with this pull: A great dance of Gods
And humans to pacify the lull.