| Citadel reverberates to a thousand voices, now |
| dumb: |
| What have we become? |
| What have we chosen to be? |
| Now, all history is reduced to the syllables of |
| our name- |
| nothing can ever be the same: |
| now the Immortals are here. |
| At the time it seemed a reasonable course |
| to harness all the force |
| of life without the threat of death, |
| but soon we found that boredom and inertia |
| are not negative, but all the law we know, |
| and dead are will and words like survival. |
| Arrival at immunity from all age, all fear and |
| all end… |
| why do I pretend? |
| Our essence is distilled |
| and all familiar taste is now drained, |
| and though purity is maintained |
| it leaves us sterile, |
| living through the millions of years, |
| a laugh as close as any tear; |
| living, if you claim that all |
| that entails is breathing, eating, defecating, |
| screwing, drinking, |
| spewing, sleeping, sinking ever down and down |
| and ultimately passing away time |
| which no longer has any meaning. |
| Take away the threat of death and all you’re |
| left with is a round of make-believe. |
| Marshal every sullen breath and though you’re |
| ultimately bored by endless ecstasy |
| it’s still the ring by which you hope to be |
| engaged |
| to marry the girl who will give you forever- |
| it’s crazy, and plainly |
| that simply is not enough. |
| What is the dullest and bluntest of pains, |
| such that my eyes never close without feeling it |
| there? |
| What abject despair demands an end |
| to all things of infinity? |
| If we have gained, how do we now meet the |
| cost? |
| What have we bargained, and what have we |
| lost? |
| What have we relinquished, never even knowing it |
| was there? |
| What thoughts now of holding fast the line, |
| defying death and time? |
| Everything we had is gone, |
| everything we laboured for and favoured more |
| than earthly things reveals the hollow ring |
| of false hope and false deliverance. |
| But now the nuptial bed is made, |
| the dowry has been paid: |
| the toothless, haggard features of eternity |
| now welcome me between the sheets |
| to couple with her withered body — my wife. |
| Hers forever, |
| hers forever, |
| hers forever |
| in still life. |