My drums and me.
Darkness
Poem lyrics of Darkness by George Gordon, Lord Byron.
I had a dream, which was not all a dream.The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the starsDid wander darkling in the eternal space,Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earthSwung blind and blackening in the moonless air;Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day,And men forgot their passions in the dreadOf this their desolation; and all heartsWere chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:And they did live by watchfires--and the thrones,The palaces of crowned kings--the huts,The habitations of all things which dwell,Were burnt for beacons; cities were consum'd,And men were gather'd round their blazing homesTo look once more into each other's face;Happy were those who dwelt within the eyeOf the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:A fearful hope was all the world contain'd;Forests were set on fire--but hour by hourThey fell and faded--and the crackling trunksExtinguish'd with a crash--and all was black.The brows of men by the despairing lightWore an unearthly aspect, as by fitsThe flashes fell upon them; some lay downAnd hid their eyes and wept; and some did restTheir chins upon their clenched hands, and smil'd;And others hurried to and fro, and fedTheir funeral piles with fuel, and look'd upWith mad disquietude on the dull sky,The pall of a past world; and then againWith curses cast them down upon the dust,And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'dAnd, terrified, did flutter on the ground,And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutesCame tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl'dAnd twin'd themselves among the multitude,Hissing, but stingless--they were slain for food.And War, which for a moment was no more,Did glut himself again: a meal was boughtWith blood, and each sate sullenly apartGorging himself in gloom: no love was left;All earth was but one thought--and that was deathImmediate and inglorious; and the pangOf famine fed upon all entrails--menDied, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;The meagre by the meagre were devour'd,Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one,And he was faithful to a corse, and keptThe birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay,Till hunger clung them, or the dropping deadLur'd their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,But with a piteous and perpetual moan,And a quick desolate cry, licking the handWhich answer'd not with a caress--he died.The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but twoOf an enormous city did survive,And they were enemies: they met besideThe dying embers of an altar-placeWhere had been heap'd a mass of holy thingsFor an unholy usage; they rak'd up,And shivering scrap'd with their cold skeleton handsThe feeble ashes, and their feeble breathBlew for a little life, and made a flameWhich was a mockery; then they lifted upTheir eyes as it grew lighter, and beheldEach other's aspects--saw, and shriek'd, and died--Even of their mutual hideousness they died,Unknowing who he was upon whose browFamine had written Fiend.