In days of yore
the pagan gods reigned high.
With their golden scepters
they drew water from the sky
and drained the deserts dry.
Mountains grew
and fell.
Man and beast
lived and died.
Field and forest
sown and thrived.
Blackened storms
marked their raging wars
in the heaven above.
A lighting day
marked their hatred was thrown away.
Now look toward the western sky
and you shall see from the great gods eye
a drop of gold
has fallen down
a tear
for the world
contemns them now.
T