Royston Emmanuel
and frightens those
who want to know
how lucians have to
get on so.
Tonight we need
no patron
saint, no
order, no
conductor, no
composer, no
lines, no
words, no
caretaker
chanting prayers
for our disorder.
Tonight we swarm
where the music goes,
we do what
the rhythm tells us,
we answer only
to that hardened steel
that knows us
more than any priest
or poet ever will.
And later when we
rub our eyes
to greet the light,
when we wash
our sins and faces,
when shadows sleep
and minds forget,
our souls will keep
the night’s refrain
till the legion comes
to rule again.
83
TCW