Helios

Helios!

Chariot rider of light!

You must descend, at once,

With your proud steeds, honey-gold,

And draw the Sun out of its tomb -

For ah! the night’s cold, and the day

Faded; those holy scenes of childhood

Sorrows, the young, virgin love, first

Bloom of life - how distant now their

Presence, how still and dead the play

Of innocence, how haggard the youth!

Oh, where’s the flowers’ light, where

The shade of that one old, wise oak?

Nowhere - nowhere the winds blow.

Mute. The still sea embraces the dead

Sky. The earth weeps in cracks, the

Sky sheds not a tear nor doth it hear

This silent suffering of its child; and

You, Father Helios, proud Gold-Sun;

Oh, even You, blessed Emperor-God

Cannot pierce this cloud-cloak with

Your light-spears; who, then, shall

Keep the mist at bay, the cold within

Its castle of ice! for, oh! the blizzards

Rage within my heart, scatter the

Love, snuff the passion out of my

Being! I am listless, spiritless; my

Soul, wayward, seeks salvation in

Empty vessels, each sharing in my

Fate. Whence hath Man, once proud

God-in-Flesh, forgotten how to love?

Heavens’ child now crawls the Earth,

A meek worm, whom darkness is the

Only cloak and Moon the holy Sun;

Helios! Death’s shadow grows deeper

Each passing day, your rays dimmer;

Salvation seems hopelessly out of

Reach.