The shadow gods grew restless,
as the ancient bells pealed loud.
They chimed the promise of redemption
and the dying god,
hanging inverse and akimbo,
swayed in rhythm to my soul.

Then suddenly,
all memories and pains,
all love,
both lost and never found
were played in unison,
a symphony of splendor,
instrumentless and silent.

All the while the old bells tolled,
the ice grew hard
and world grew cold.