Roman Rain

Growling wind, a carnivorous thing
Has brought a torture to gem of thy heart,
Elemental foes of our race
Have slain the children of luscious spring.
Beneath the sigh of celestial beam
The bloodshed I see is our primal home.
Benevolent fate, oh bless my eyes,
Blind them, prick them, forsake them free!
Sweet child, you dree the panic,
And withers within you outcry.
Natural worship’s hostile to us
All the splendor’s pretense of sky,
Just falsity of light.
The ether is woven of spots and holes
And I am a one, flogged on azure vault,
I’m nothing at all and in nothing I dwell,
A tiny amoeba in crimson dredge.
Betaken amid this rapture of war