The moon struggles to fight its dominance
The sun fiercely declares contention
The wind, the rain coerced
We live here, we inhabit, we never settle.
But in the land of flying isles nobody wins
Not even the veil-cloaked men that worship their gods
Keep running, keep floating, the winged black things
Keep the fight fair and unchanging.
The sun, the moon, the pious men that hold steadfast
The winged evils and the rainbow-colored rides
The brown little stones that scatter in your head when you sleep
The green flora that give everything songs of dubious cause
They too, every one of them, will fall apart in due time.
We live a lie of eternity, the potion of perpetual youth a joke
We insist we conquer everything and conquered nothing
The struggle against dominion and power effervesce
For all we are just fleeting moments of eternity
Beyond that, we die.
Zumarraga Island, 13 June 2009