No living man can be wiser than the dead;
We are the sins of our histories -
The revelation that we bear
Weary and cracked like old stone,
Spoken in the only tongue
We\'ve left ourselves.
We consume what we love,
And we don\'t feel it when it\'s gone -
Roaming temples
And wine-dark chambers,
Fire and blood baked into our bones
And dancing on our skin
Like Melusine in Avalon.
We are full of ashes and regret;
Bloody and blessed -
The beginning and the end
Dragged across burning black
And the sun climbing down the sky.
And you - transformed
To be held against my breast.
Caged and tamed for the hunt,
We taste like our heroes -
Like another memory
Spilling over the dry earth,
And we could sleep for years
If we could close our eyes.
The air hangs warm and clear;
A new world in our wake -
And we will bring each other home,
Like we did when we were young.