The black wolf approaches,
as the light lessens,
the land becomes dark,
and the wolf is devouring,
our God,
our Soul.
For what reason?
I do not know,
for we throttled the goat,
was that not enough?
For we are mere mortals,
delving in the thoughts of Gods.
And now all is gone,
the fire is out,
the wolf has fed,
soon we shall be dead.
The sparks are not gone,
the heart lives on!
And now the wolf is burnt,
as the fire ignites,
he runs from the hearth,
in awful flight,
now returned to us:
our God,
our Soul.
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Solar Eclipse
PoetryA poem about the eclipse and how it must have been like living in a time when the Sun was so important, for it to die and then be reborn
