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Gathering of proselytes, sibylline of gaiety
Glum tors bearing mired heel
Naif seers obdurate
A looming vapor ever guiding in its ubiety
Plummeting downward, wrought unknowing from the firmament
Reeds arcing through brittle air
Barred by gnawing quiet
Croon of repose idling
Untold, uncherished begot wile
Unanswered ilk of sorrow
Fists casting upward, unspent
Towards a bowing sky

Swathes of earth flooded with unjoy

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