Undone we are by the night of Time,
The realm of Saturn and his awful sons,
Forever fleeing from thunderbolts
And an unforgiving razor scythe
Wherever we may run and hide,
Unable, unwilling to blink or breathe;
And every breeze is the burning breath
Of a better predator bringing death.
The night is not ours to control,
Those hours of unwilling return
To primordial eons of living
Not as predators but as prey,
The slithering fear still lurking
At the base of our swollen brains
And in all those chilling whispers
That are far too fast to outrun.
In the darkest moments of terror,
Under a boundless starless sky
And a demoniac grinning moon,
The Abyss is singing lullabies
That steal every inkling of sleep,
And evil creatures are skulking
Towards Earth on broken paths
Of fractured, faltering light.
When daylight dies, the memories
Too deep for evolution to touch
Awake and bare their fangs, alive
Again in the shadow of death;
And then, in a neural flash, is gone
The gauzy illusion of supremacy
That we have created just to survive
In the face of unconquerable death.
But not long ago, in the night of Time,
We were the hunkering prey,
And we were the passing indigestion
Of some smarter, faster beast,
And we were the victims of Nature’s disinterest,
And we were the scavenging vermin…
Now haunting our dreams and memories
In this night we can never escape.
Image credit: Christine Matthews, from Wikimedia Commons, under a Creative Commons License.