Frosted Windows

Wading out into the centre pool
Floating above the abyssal deep
Where gods once rose from darkness
Now submit to their restful sleep

Frayed are the fringes of the clouds
That bring the storm grimly apropos
To rain grim death upon the court
To ruin the most great and secret show

Rips in time crack the sky in twain
Dark cities of midnight are born anew
Upon the breeze bore a winsome sigh
Of a newborn innocent and true