Dance of the Titans
Weightless for an instant,
A sliding brilliance of colours,
Blending wildly into buoyant
splatters,
Becoming ever brighter stars.
Floating, now pulsing like life
blood,
Whirling into unending void
Under Hyperion’s ever fixed gaze.
And I, as I lie, under a great
unseeing eye,
Locked within a hoary host,
Things now seen from what has been.
Scarlet is the Titan’s birth,
Travelled long on cosmic rays.
Vast night and I so small,
Lost in its inky breadth.
Silent nigh, I wonder how many days
Have passed before this very place.
And I, but a speck upon the sand,
Once soared for but a moment,
Now covered by a cloak of night,
Burnt out to naught but ashes.
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