Imperial Night

Imperial night, your proud face sheets escarpements of history and space... All your dark volume encloses wells of roses wherein their liquid capes of blood reflect the school of living things Imperial night, eternity's black wine flows before your indifferent throne and petals all your shield of useless blooms, before which love has faltered, with nets of cast-off remonstrance Imperial night, time and all its freight of wasted joy will to the scalene fires and produce from their diagonal affections those blank flowers of wordless creation which adorn as they approach your disdainful sight and petals all your shield of useless blooms, before which love has faltered, with nets of cast-off remonstrance