On the night of the Darkmoon
High summer, stars like jewel fire in the skies
Cygnus spreading her wings over all
In the kingdom of power
The Orange King is dancing and chanting
Dumping his buckets of warm spittle over the Dreamers
Even here on the guarded Isle,
We can hear their screams
The grey boys who follow the King
Crawl out of their cocoons, cradling their black weapons

Now in the height of the Darkmoon
The siren trucks are carrying the victims of the King’s speech
Murdered and clutching their dead children
The Grey Men in the high towers murmur
And count their golden trophies

Still it is a Darkmoon summer night on the Isle
And as dawn begins to break
We can see shy red flowers on the bean vines.
We pray for healing and the cage for the Orange monarch
But our hope is feeble on this early morning.  Aug. 6, 2019