From frigid brine and brimstone
Clawed forth from fatal confines
And there upon the dawn I see
The demons of the Earth
Ivory towers fangs and furrows
bristling with stagnant seas
Defaced mountains, shattered trees
a ruin of their make
Be not the bitter bleaks of hell
and brimstone which would deem perdition
All fabergé and superstition
pale before the mortal realm
These dire drearies wrung of romance
reality far crueler warden
Call mercy to the congregant
there feasting on the echo
The space between them further still
than Dis or that which crawls between
A hollow place of swallowed screams
thus populates the Earth