The Last Delirium

We
who had gathered
unknown, amidst strangers
witnessed the first signs.

The distant noise
-a murmur,
riding the waves.
Rising; raising ripples in the music.

One by one
we came, one and all,
we, who were what was the crowd.

Unaroused
we gathered around fires,
little circles shielding the light,
melting numbed joints.

We, who had gathered
brandishing machetes
and books and tools,
suffered the first Loss.

Thronging the streets,
littering the halls -the temple steps,
we could not see it coming,
submerged as it was
underneath our clamor.

You and I,
who were there, on that fateful day,
stared at its face
and met those pitiless eyes.

Blazing fire
in sudden spiteful fury,
beating in ecstasy the drums of doom.

A toppled mountain plunging into the streams
the tides rising like never before,
the thundering steps
growing louder,
over and above apocalypse.

And we, who were there
saw in its face
the unrelenting power
of creation that no longer submits to any creator

We, who had gathered
rushed out to see our nemesis.
One so bold to smite us.

It was then, perhaps
that you and I,
in the scattering crowd
of the unraveling world
were struck by its force.

We stared at its face
helpless,
you and I,
who had created this monster
flesh and blood, and bronze,
But now, we can only gape
at our creation
sounding the music of the final delirium.