You outshine all the stars in heaven's dome,Their fiery heat you swallowed into night.You crept up close, enveloping as home,And your approach for them is ash and blight.
And having played enough with this creation,Grinding it down to dust, tearing apart,Like a wolfhound, leave it without motion,So life may rise again, transcending art.
You set the world's appointed date of dying,Your coming, alas, no one can cease.I understand that we are not defying;In this great Battle, our strength will decrease.
That by indulging death, we'll be undone,Disassembled to atoms once more.Which means someone must live when it's done,To torture pages on a poet's floor.
