Ouranus

I do say, dearest sniper of Ouranus, That to fire but upon the ground is mutiny, Without Gaea, there is no image of you. She, Is more important, She, who slumbers and Moderates the flesh of our naked souls. You, what do you, Ouranus, lord of the heavens, Moderate? An aspect of tooth and fire in the sky, Equipped to burn the living and enthrall the damned. Shouting words of violence and hatred. Watching Humans through their tempered glass windows And loose-hanging doorways. Waiting for man To come into your realm, to recognize that the end of days Is coming. But they don’t care do they? They care about the bounty of Gaea. They care Of their next meal, next cloth, and next love. They care not of the bereavement you bear them, O, Ouranus, Lord of the Sky. You have been all but forgotten. You have been abandoned, the great and enigmatic horror, The great frontier, abandoned. To indulge in Gaea’s somatic desires.