A stillborn visage
Sits in the night
Beneath the old moon
A burning twilight
A solemn face
Veiled in the stars
Descends from beyond
the retrograde Mars
It does not speak
Nor open its eyes
Yet still it lingers
Before the sunrise
Which since its arrival
Will no longer come
An omen long set
Of terrors far flung
And when it does wake
To gaze down below
Naught shall remain
But ashes and snow