The stars they shine ill-omened.
Telling us, without a doubt,
Since Mars is in the ascendant,
That the gods of war stride out.
The Fimble Winter’s warning,
Of more than ice to come,
Of wars that lead to worse things.
Suffering and dire plagues for some.
Wolves howling in the darkness.
Men’s screams and clash of arms.
Death contorted bodies in the roadways.
And thick smoke from burning farms.
Black smoke of burning cities.
While women’s pitiful shrieks,
Cry to heaven for help and mercy.
But heaven’s ears are closed.
They are closed, they will not listen.
Until the time is ripe.
For the song of love and mercy,
Went unheeded down the years.
Went unheeded and unnoticed.
Despised by all but few.
Despised by the rich and powerful.
Despised by even you.