The sun sets. Dusk falls upon the horizon.
A twilight envelops our surroundings.
Too quickly are we elapsed in darkness.
Covered by night's protective cloak.
We travel by candlelight to the ceremony;
A pharmakos.
In which we are the scapegoat.
There one would find us;
Dancing and singing with weeping eyes.
We hold each other and know
Apollo must bring the chariot of golden light.
Still we perform the ritual.
We walk around the pyre.
Praying to the twins,
Hypnos and Thanatos
In a mumbled chant.
We plead
For nocturnal oblivion.
An eternal sleep.
In which Apollo fails to chase away Nyx In their endless cycle of night and day.
Our chants subsided,
we turn to the gifts from the oracle.
Pythia and poppy seeds.
We embrace, stare into our dampened eyes
And promise, to find each other on the river Styx.
