Gloria Duex

Draft 2.5, Part 1

To throw light 
 upon the theft 
of night.

 Where rose above 
 graves 
 a silo’d hill.

 That reflected thunder
 the lofty third.

 All sorts feint 
 and endeavoring 

 to seize 
 water for sugar.
 

 Down
staring down 

 at guns where
 famine 
 ran ahead.

A war of worms.
Never far 

 from blood in eye
 of mythic

 filled with 
divisions.


 But all points 
where vanished

slid into horror,
 was an eclipse 
 of the moon.
 

Fever ever 
 deeper blue.

And behind these lay 
 charcoal and ice.
 
And lumps 
 bare purple clouds 
 
in a field of oats
that'd met a horse

on that sea-enlightened 
 encumbering part.