All Gods Follow – a poem

This day all gods follow a road down

From heaven to ruination, the path

That rare led anywhere now makes

A harvest of deities misplaced, believed

In and deified by modern man only.


Ephemeral wishes form divinity in aether

To deliver them, part grown, barely mature,

To lands in which they swell, growing

Like the tides beneath a dank lunar pull,

The sowing yet to be made, planted.

Rigidity reaped is the harvest from souls

Too long in thrall to copper gods for whom

The realms sigh and seek to shake off

For ritual trapped mortals to become free:

This day all gods go down this road, to die.



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