Oh this magic modern age
With building basements three stories deep
Opaque as any ancient tomb
Fitting for a good days sleep
Oh this crimson burning rage
That turns mortal heat to pulsing light
Sweeping all hope and will aside
In our starlit endless night
Oh we dwellers of the dark
Where death and beauty meet as twin
Where myth and disbelief collide
Modern magic, ancient sin
Frank J. Hernandez
Copyright ©1998 Frank Hernandez