The Late Hour
The hour is late
I can hear
your fading heartbeat
getting weaker
slowly your breath
moves back and forth
whispering my name.
Ancient chants
can serve no use
your gods lacked power
to deliver
to aid
empty vessels
you lie abandoned
in the dust of death
awaiting that final moment
when the clock will stop
and tribulation will flood
over all that you were
all that you did
the hour is late
your breathing
now weaker
weaker
I can hear
your fading heartbeat
getting weaker
slowly your breath
moves back and forth
whispering my name.
Ancient chants
can serve no use
your gods lacked power
to deliver
to aid
empty vessels
you lie abandoned
in the dust of death
awaiting that final moment
when the clock will stop
and tribulation will flood
over all that you were
all that you did
the hour is late
your breathing
now weaker
weaker
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