Portents of the Maker's return
Seven times seventy men of stone immense
Rose up from the earth like sleepers waking at the dawn;
Crossing the land with strides immeasurable,
And in the hollows of their footprints
Paradise was stamped , indelible.
And I heard from the East a great cry
As men who were beats warred with their brothers,
Tooth and claw against blade and bow,
Until one could no longer be told from the other,
And cursed them and cursed their generations.
And those who slept, the ancient ones , awoke,
For their dreams had been devoured
By a demon that prowled the Fade
As a wolf hunts a heard of deer.
Taking first the weakest and frailest of hopes,
And when there was nothing left,
Destroying the bright and bold
By subtlety and ambush and cruel arts.
The ninth sacred mountain upon which rests
The mortal dust of Our Lady ascended
Whole into the heavens, to be given high honor
In the Realm of Dreams forever.
And around it , a chorus of spirits sang:
"Whatsoever passes through the fire
Is not lost , but made eternal;
As air can never be broken nor crushed,
The tempered soul is everlasting !"
And I looked up and saw
The seven gates of the Black City shatter,
And darkness cloaked both realms."