There are flood and drouth
Over the eyes and in the mouth,
Dead water and dead sand
Contending for the upper hand.
The parched eviscerate soil
Gapes at the vanity of toil,
Laughs without mirth.
           This is the death of earth.

Next comes the crucifer
Two acolytes beside
Reminding where our journey bends
Toward betrayal, derision, accusation
Injustice, abandonment and death
We each know these stations
Regular stops on our main line
            Mind the gap between this and that.