Neptune (from the crypt)

Of a dying earth springs forth a sea of gold.

And you, with flying mane and thunderous cadence

Bring me to the ocean’s turmoil.

It steals my breath, the salt, the sting!

With powerful swiftness you launch

Into the waves.

I sit, chilled, with no more to go

But beneath the surface of a dying sea.

The angry trident rises,

From a vessel pulled by three.

And up in front you reach,

To slap and strike at the fire

Sinking out of sight.

Behind and far the ice giant waits,

The seven before him burning.

You land and splash and scream.

I hold on, wet and chilled and reborn

The brick and mortar,

The fallen children of a mighty king

Rise in ruin before us.

Words of scripted protest

In red and blue and black,

“The end is near”

“The end is here.”

The earth trembles.

The old god calls again.

You bow your head and run.