SATURNINE

The world is heavier
Darker and colder
Dead and heavy as grey lead

The streets are emptier
The wind is still
The moon is like a bent icicle

World bears no welcome
For anyone born tonight
And laughs at fools who think themselves
'In love' or 'at home'

It's a time for price-paying
For all joys to be deferred
While wary angels unsheath their swords