The fading star is an evocation

Of suns under which

we've walked before,

and far off I see

Desolate oceans, and the light

shining softly on lonely plains:

Dying moons that wander

in the plains of ice and sand.

Under those revenant Lights,

I long to lose

In the all-devouring darkness

this ever-aching loneliness.

The cloud-strewn

horizons, infinite and far

now veil my destination to the west:

Spaces of fire and night,

Where ghostfire lilies open

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up on rolling hills,

and glittering stars

fallen to the sea

wash ashore on bone-white sands.

Beneath the gaze of

formless gods,

we breathed life into

the bygone hopes and wishes,

the evanescent dreams

Of distant loves

and prodigal autumns,

that we may dance

in the flame of our mortality.

There the skies of silver and iron

Gleam with divine malignity over

sunset-haunted lands,

whispering of forgotten histories

and fallen glories,

where phantom castles stand.