They do not hear because they will not hear,
In magic circles, tight with blinders on,
Their mantras dull and worn, all meaning gone,
Their words a fog that covers up their fear.
They do not think because they will not think;
Abuse and venom: cavil, mock and spurn;
They hammer demon images to burn,
And creep in craven huddles to the brink.
They work like slaves to bring unending night;
When all are blind, then no one needs his eyes,
When all are chained, then no one needs to rise,
When all submit, then no one needs to fight.
Who does not shudder in the gloaming time?
The candle spits and sputters, small and low,
The candle-makers gave up long ago;
The darkness is an end, a goal, a crime.