Witness the Leaving of Light,

 

remnants traced in purple, clouds go black from white.

The harsh wind, with craven creepings, frustrates the Garden's

cabbalistic trees, taking comfort from clandestine acts, and these stubborn trees scarcly wound the onward rolling wind.

 

Setting for a Drama,

haven for the Death's head, temples arose and as quickly fell.     

Sacrifices furnished, the furtive glances of robed fools paused

on the miraculous moribund fish, writhing in verity, preyed upon by

the crowning thorns and nails.

 

Sheepish Coming of the Sun,

arrivers bask in crimson, Clouds return a hypocritical white.

Quaking religionists, molified by their own fears and

the freshly calumned trees, worship the harrowed sacrificial Fish.

Sorrows of men recede, primordial evils leave,

 

  joining the Darkness,

 

 

     and await this new Lights' Leaving.