dark poetry

shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
wrap the earth in cloudy weather
let us pity those who are better off than we are
in the dark and peace of my final bed
this is the arsenal
skies they were ashen and sober
dear wife
they ask me where i've been
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
i stand in the cold gray weather
of sun nor stars
i know not where
when freedom from her mountain height