The Collected Poetry

Leaves

We now rule o'er the autumn of mankind,

Where mighty kingdoms droop and do decay,

And long-toothed hoards of rabble-rotten minds,

Whose yellow eyes, and blood lust lead astray.

We live far past the summer of our days,

For sun that fell in plenty now we starve.

Mark in us not the carefree joyous ways,

We count the heavens last remaining stars.

Not yet the winter of humanity,

When frost reigns king and death lies in his air,

Which none these fiends shall ever live to see,

When waning weak we live in dire despair.

     Like leaves do tyrants topple from their height,

     And phoenix-like, we hope to greet the light.