If only I had strength to match my eyes
That hold unblinking view upon the shores
Where in the coming days the waves shall rise
And bring to bear the fruit of distant wars
To cast into the sea these bitter few
Whose whims and wants are wrought in others’ blood
And let the waters do as waters do
As punishment for calling forth the flood
Instead such figures get to keep their breath
And, brushing off these visions of the end
Still sing and drink and laugh at coming death
That I and every human heart portend
I speak, and hear only the waves reply
Is every prophet doomed to live as I?
Autumn Eternal Fiction 