Voices on the Wind Obscure Voices
Fimbul Winter by James F. Gaines A gathering apocalypse Ignites the long electric night. Write your books, shining boy! The glow of your words Winks out in the waxing wind. Burn the last candles! Hereafter the darkness Completes centuries of human passion. Its final glimmer Dies on the planetís curve, weary, And the great reconcentration begins. Before the viking flash of Ragnarok Comes the Fimbul Winter, Season of ever denser ices. Violence flares in snarling titan wolves, Howling giants stirring below; Manís future is lost. Gold we mistook for redemption Seeps back into the Dragonís cavern, Where the exterminating miser, Rapture-driven in the treasureís gulf, Savors unsettled debts, Unpaid rents, Unpresented gifts, Unlived lives: Ecstasy in the vast unborn. We his lunatic eunuchs Are giantsí children screaming, Sliding down his scarlet throat. Will two survive hidden In the core of a blasted tree? Who can say? The fatesí tangled web stretches Dimly beyond all knowing.