At The Edge of IreneAnd as Jove’s Sceptre swept me from his throne.
Most heard within – the rise of hubris moan.
Yes, Did I fall through years. (The Dome! Kersplash!)
Hear All! The Alph runs grey with Human Ash.

Mortal.  Alone. My Nimbus fades from fright.
Behold!  A vision of an unexpected plight!
No matter what….I’ll never hear the words.
A Babylonic Fate: to graze among the herds.

What pool one day reflects this face to dread?
I stare fore-ever at the Gorgon’s Head.

Xanadu Lost

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