On things gone by
The buried precepts lost
In wayward thoughts
Of idle hours spent by
Somewhere else
While we our dollars make
By daily toil
Bleak, bleakest winter
Bone-snap cold
(driving indoors all,
the absent sun)
Diverse slanders
Uttered out-of-doors
Let bygone lip-synched prayers
Unanswered, fade
Ignored by yawning
Channel-surfing God
Who flips through decades
Clicking one by one
Sleep the death-like sleep
On crisp white sheets
Nocturnal thoughts of
Lost car-keys and things
The lumbering wonder
Thunders, underwhelmed
Hecate's whispered
Incantations lost
The Viking's funeral pyre will blaze
Up out into the sky
Upon the waves
Three thousand years
And not a minute saved
The sands of time
Will fall for anyone
Young faces wrinkle slowly,
Week by week
And strong backs slowly
Weaken, year by year
The dreams of long-dead men
Traverse the stars
To sadly settle planets yet unmade
The testaments of unnamed
Alien gods
Writ down on stones
Decayed one billion years
And everyone the pulverizing time
It grinds down every upstart
That it finds
To alter foremost "yes"
On things gone by
To move the minute hand
There yet again
The moon will close her eyes
And look away
The sun will smile and sadly
Shake his head
The sky will weep and stretch
From here to there
The earth will spin and say
That all is well
The graves will stand forgotten
Day by day
And everything will be
As it will be
To alter foremost "yes"
On things gone by
The buried precepts
Lost on scattered thoughts
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