In my poetry I shall tell of the trials, woes, and joys—
To time yet unborn…;
Of sleep and death that lie ahead…and of strange music
As He beckons the world to his command,
In the haunting gloom of twilight—.

Somewhere I lost my passing grace, and there you stood—
Thou deadliest face…;
For a time: to tell the hearts unrest: in mercies unconfused
As He beckons the world to his command,
In the haunting gloom of twilight—.

To whom the unceasing fires belong (an inviolable heart)—
Numbered is thy consequence…;
A hymn, He hums: trembles the evening—of frozen flesh
As he beckons the world to his command,
In the haunting gloom of twilight—.

Silent I turn from time, that holds dominion over all—
As Orion’s sword passes by…;
Gives way to the Devils hostile Firmament: warfare
As He beckons the world to his command,
In the haunting gloom of twilight—.

Unarmed, He and I stand (like mindless clay) in the sun—
Awaiting the darkness…;
A sacrificial past for him, over Orion’s distinct sword
As He beckons the world to his command,
In the haunting gloom of twilight—.

Note: 908 (11-1-2005); “…written in Lima, Peru, in my library, in the quiet darkness of the night…” The Author

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

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