Chant For The Dying Moments (Poetry)

Steal the minute, hold the hour
trap the sun in light’s green bower
move the mountain, drink the river
breathe chill air, resist the shiver

Walk on rooftops, clear the city
send all packing, show no pity,
set the flame, watch castles burning
the god men made is not returning

The skies stretch red, striped black and yellow
dark horses neigh, wild cattle bellow
the beasts see well, men still live blinded
the rich hellbent and money-minded

The map is lost, the trail winds narrow
the knife’s turned rust, age broke the arrow
no going back, the end is coming
the future’s now — no use in running