Pantokrator

Thy feeble flame

Pantokrator
Consider thy way
Consider thy fate
Behold his ways of old
Thy path in darkness
Thou wilt rest in the cold

The guardians tremble
The melodies fade
The strong men bow their knees
Dust thou art

The grasshopper drags himself along
You are humming a sad song
As your caperberry doth not bloom

For lo
The eternal resting place is calling your name
The song of the mourners, can you hear it?
They roam the streets, waiting

The silverchord is broken
Thy golden bowl
The wine of thy life is spilled
Upon the barren ground
Thy days are but a shadow
And the dust is dust again

Quenched is the feeble flame of thy light
Flesh is clothed with worms
As God reclaims your spirit

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