And he of once indomitable Troy saw the burning towers.
And the moons turned nigh, while the stars did beckon,
Enshadowed earth with no half-light ever, as the
Hour of the doomsday rained down upon them.
An imperious judge that sang of caraway
Seeds, a maiden that was an owl;
For Gog and Magog had undrowned upon the precipice,
As the terrors of hell clove the blood-red gloaming;
And the world turned nigh unto the ancient wise man,
Now tortured by demons, while the screen knew never.
Empyrean chimes that set alight the world of dream;
A broken memory, thrice borne in suffering, a yearning
Meadow soon forgot; and the gavel did fall, while the
Angels wept, and the night passed over the weary earth;
And Priam mourned the now bloody brook,
A scorched realm where no lilacs grow;
Unhallowed eye of a cruel dominion,
As the martyr stood in silence.