The stars have haloes.
They've seen and now tell,
stories like rings,
a woven text on the sky.
"It comes," they cry,
"The future foreseen."
"And tonight is the first of the signs."
The stars have haloes.
The moon clad with blood.
The sun beset by two dogs.
Ring the earth in warning.
The starry crowns shine through,
through cloud and doubt,
the stars have haloes.
The singing begins.
The forgotten have begun their march.
The book closes.
-o0o-
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