Alas, Babylon

The dear Sleeping Beauty has died in the head
The Future is ravaged in mind
The Knights of the Moon have examined the corpse
Fascinated by what's left behind.

The collector of secrets is rescued again
Suspicion is all he returns
Takes knowledge for wisdom and judgement for grace
And nothing-at-all's what he learns.

The iron usurper has tightened his hand
The whisper of unrest is quelled
The tower of moonlight falls under the dark
The speakers of truth are bespelled.

The Starkindler's broken, by Shadows destroyed
Because of the actions of one
Who, since he's the hero, must always be right
In spite of the damage he's done.

The Mariner's sailing; he carries his star
A thousand years back in the dark
Though destiny's turning has torn him away
He once was the lord of the Mark.

A jewel of contention, a symbol of power
The eye that is not, cannot see
A circle, a circle, that once ruled them all
So precious, but not at all free.

A third of the angels have fallen, and so
Hegelian conflict abounds
Destroying the weak is still evil, my foe
However enlightened it sounds.

-- Kathryn A