Our ancestors looked to the skies, for only the sharply glowing lights told the truth. Yet, even so, the truth, so graciously vouchsafed, fell by the wayside and perished, leaving us with nothing to believe in.

Black velvet clothed the darkened sky
Pierced by the brilliant light
Of diamonds glowing as they lie
Upon the velvet night
Below the creatures of the wold
The creatures of the grass
Beheld the diamonds that foretold
What harm would come to pass
The humming spheres so softly sang
The golden written scores
That spoke of shrieks and screams that rang
Of past and future wars
And bright filled lands of cooling breeze
And mountains snow top high
With rushing water to the seas
Filled with the loon’s keen cry
The creatures of the wold held fast
They did believe it not
The creatures of the grass at last
Believed but soon forgot
The velvet sky no longer cloaks
The singing diamond spheres
As in the wold the raven croaks
So wise beyond his years