Night fell upon the Earth; the world went mute,

The Sun was consumed by the briny deep,

While Shadows and Shades, from dusk, were released.

In this chasm, the whole turned on itself,

Begetting three disputatious archers;

Each drawing a bow of mist and spirit.

 

The first spoke: in and out, through and through, bound

And tied, high and low, I seethe between and

By the lines of Life; none of which cohere,

None of which reveal Life's essence, or being.

Yet by mad hunger and sentiment, I

Arch my aim towards the nebulous abyss.

 

The second followed: like the first, I'm mad,

But take joy in the delicacies of

Life; pleasure in excess and sweet pain;

I blind myself with glee, for why would

I yearn to see the bleak void before my

Being – no, naively, I will take my shot.

 

The third concluded: my two brothers have

Wagged their tongues, defending their existence,

Which without a choice, they were thrown into;

An absurd thing, yes, but filled with meaning.

Yet by reason and will, we take our aim,

Release our arrows, with faith, as we please.

 

Taking's aim, the first wolfishly turned to

The second, callously loosed his arrow

Into his brother's heart, who fell with a

Wordless whimper, pulled another from his

Quiver and deftly quieted’s own soul,

Embodying the bleakness he'd become.

 

Yet with ease and grace, the third heartily

Released his arrow into the night;

Faithfully bringing forth the hidden light,

Which brilliantly rose into the sky,

Enveloping the heavens with's radiance;

Freeing the mind from deception and doubt.

 

Such can Man, despite the Earth's ever-shifting sands,

Slice through the suffering made manifest by still

Lies; which with a piteous cacophony die,

Bereft of the word; which blindly and drunkenly

Went unheard, condemning Man by his own actions.