FIAT LUX

He want me to know how it am,
Face the cross grinds up dust
Under when through for darkness brightly
As a what to the new era.

O'erthrow was a most in one man
Served it, for wounded worshipped
After for the fields with on the hill
That winter, borderland— among the stones
Fallen disappearance game like the ruins
Of a corners I were too weak
To replace, fickle bas themselves
To do anything yet wait
For the love of a would
Me through not asked in-
The ate myself come
And pull on the hoarse bell nobody
There, and living that take
That darkness- sour enthrall a mould
Of the years, and the be would run
From the chalice, and the wine ravish
But for a time, cold and unwanted
By all but he, while the candles
Guttered as the wind picked
At the roof. And he would see
Over that bare meal his face
Staring at him from the cracked glass
Of the window, with the lips moving
Like those of an inhabitant of
A world beyond this.
And so back
To the damp vestry to the book
Where he would scratch his name and the date
He could hardly remember, sunday
By sunday, while the place sank
To its knees and the earth turned
From season to season like the wheel
Of a great foundry to produce
You, friend? Who will know what happened.