Twelve dreams above, upon a cloud,
The voice of Terror shrieked aloud,
And down below, Misfortune cringed.
Where once there dwelt the Hermit's kin,
The ranks of Fear had ripped the land
In such a way that Virtue's stand
Was severed from the corpse of Love.
The Hermit met Terror above,
Applauded him for his damned deed,
And took him to the house of Greed,
Where also dwelt old Vanity.
They dined with master Sanity,
Who then went out to Joy coerce.
Attracted by the blesséd curse
And taunted by the praise of Joy,
Deceit and Faith there made a ploy
To raid the fortunes of lord Greed.
Justice then their call did heed,
And off they went while Virtue's tears
Consumed the endless sea of Seers,
While Love laid beaten in the wood,
While years Alacrity withstood,
While every bit of savage Pride
Consumed the whole of Valor's stride,
While Spinner's garment shifted shade.
And all the pain once Wisdom bade
Was then controlled by Hermit good.
He it was with turn to brood,
And brood he did in spite of Blight.
Then Ignorance, in all his might,
Was left with little more to do.
He went with Covetous to rue
The brooding face of Moon at wane,
Which still the Daylight sought to fane,
And not a bit did shadows play,
Nor would again for many days.
1/20/05