NaPoWriMo 14

More-Than-This

The High Gods dance on perfect crystal boats
To melodies ornate and songs sublime.
They drink the wine of bliss, and judge the world,
All drifting on the endless sea of time.

There are Gods of Night and Gods of Mirth and Hope,
Gods of Desire and War, of Wind and Stone,
But the scowling God that they call More-Than-This
Turns his boat away and sails alone.

Youths in their millions send up prayers to Love,
And marching armies sing their hymns to War,
The farmers pile the altars high with tribute,
The city’s throngs they kneel and adore.

But when you sit at evening discontented,
Surrounded by the empty things you’ve won,
And suddenly you’re filled with lonely longing,
It’s More-Than-This that hears your hungry groan.

There are Gods of Night and Gods of Mirth and Hope,
Gods of Desire and War, of Wind and Stone,
But the scowling God that they call More-Than-This
Turns his boat away and sails alone.

(Been reading ol’ Dunsany again.)

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