What the Hyena Said
The moon is but a golden skull, She mounts the heavens now, And Moon-Worms, mighty Moon-Worms Are wreathed around her brow. The Moon-Worms are a doughty race: They eat her gray and golden face. Her eye-sockets dead, and molding head: These caverns are their dwelling-place. The Moon-Worms, serpents of the skies, From the great hollows of her eyes Behold all souls, and they are wise: With tiny, keen and icy eyes, Behold how each man sins and dies. When Earth in gold-corruption lies Long dead, the moon-worm butterflies On cyclone wings will reach this place - Yea, rear their brood on earth's dead face.
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"The moon is but a golden skull,..."
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