• Pale hues of gray and white
    Cloud my senses; impair my sight.
    One is forsaken in space amassed,
    The time to assemble comes to be passed.
    Councils gather in the skies
    And discuss the days of present demise.
    They tell me of what is to be,
    "A future," they say, "in infinity,
    Where reason cuts through the sins of man,
    And where time construes 'cannot' to 'can'"