"The Hour"

The tides of life
From what I've seen
Bring storms and strifes
Yet unforseen.
The day is bright
So night be dark;
An endless fight
All being's mark.

No fortress walls,
Nor highland hills,
Or thunder rolls
Whenever will
Defend my flesh
And soul within
From mortal clash
Of Good and Sin.

But when my time
Finally comes,
A crafty rhyme,
A blast of drum
Will count as none.
For word and sound
Forever's gone
In stillness bound.

What is beyond
That last of gates--
An age of fond
Deprived of hate,
A rushing race
With wicked crows--
Till that hour's faced
I cannot know.