The third poem in the King of Ages series:
King of Ages III
The secluded ticking of the natural order,
Has become cluttered with patches of industry.
Faint clashes of stone on stone and
Antler on rock can be heard above
The constant ticking, disturbing the order.
Soon, people will wield iron,
And rush in new dawns and new times,
No need for archers with their wooden implements.
We have swords and huge forts,
Gouged into the landscape like a gaping wound.
Ready for who knows what,
Time itself is kept at bay,
But, just in case, we shall meet at some waters edge,
And offer some trinket weapon
To dead ancestors.
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