Mind clusters, garden roots green and glowing
Thick in my throat, memories of times forward
Fernhill potent, wordstruck, clambering tendrils
Eyepools of happiness, yellow eyed feral beasts
We sing in our chains, claws intact
As animals go extinct, we cry stop no more
Down the long haul, towards all our deaths
We do rage against this night of our making
The fire bright, horns askew, owls call our names
Too many too few too much too little
Too late sings the blackbird deep in my doom
Too soon the summer and then the winter
We shall fall asleep