Today's piece is something of a mood poem, a poem of a certain tone, and that tone is Fin de siècle, of storm clouds, of darkness, of endings. It is myth and conflict, whether Greek gods, Middle-Earth, Narnia, or the True West.
Fin de siècle
Grey clouds sweep across the sky
Mighty Zeus is waking, full of rage
The seagull gives a plaintive cry
For how can we the gods assuage?
Dark clouds come across the land
Night come in day, and flash of light
From Barad-dûr, by Sauron’s hand
And when will the ending be in sight?
Cair Paravel is lost, the dark descends
As Father Time calls home the stars
Seas rise, thunder breaks, no amends
Will Narnia end, now world of scars?
Logres and Britain: this is our choice
And who will speak its truest voice?
Fin de siècle
Grey clouds sweep across the sky
Mighty Zeus is waking, full of rage
The seagull gives a plaintive cry
For how can we the gods assuage?
Dark clouds come across the land
Night come in day, and flash of light
From Barad-dûr, by Sauron’s hand
And when will the ending be in sight?
Cair Paravel is lost, the dark descends
As Father Time calls home the stars
Seas rise, thunder breaks, no amends
Will Narnia end, now world of scars?
Logres and Britain: this is our choice
And who will speak its truest voice?
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