Non Timetis Messor

The function of men is to live, not to exist
I shall not waste my days prolonging them
Shall
Use
My
Time
All of our lives that have gone before
All to come after it-- so we ignore
So we make perfect the present, condense
Thoughts and feeling, soul and sense
A rage of rapture against the dying of light
Let our whirring dances keep the dark at bay
A merging moment, this final absolution
A heretic’s antinomy to the ending of days
The moment eternal, just that and no more
When ecstasy’s utmost we clutch at the core
Our shadows cast will bring the tiding
This is our ending, this is where it starts
Our coven’s summer solstice
A welcoming omen of beating hearts