Those above
The myriad below
In timeless fog
Does judgment grow
Though unsuspected
And all unseen
One might know
From what they glean
In words, in stories
Great ages old
From where we've come
Not what we're told
Though in time we might
See a vast clear sky
And what for eons
In the fog has lied
Then will we
Know naught but fear
The coming watch
Of Olon-Vir