The Levelling Dust

High on its hill the white house stands
Like a mosque of silence on the cliff of demise
An eastern outline against the light of the sky
With the glare of sunset on the autumn night

Behind deaths angel, the sunset-glow darken
Shadow thickens under oaken leaves
Soon the last powerstreams of summer droop
Around the dwelling of fire on the city of the dead

And as an echo of the black death
Still lingers forgotten under the song of the wind
A messy remnant of the dark fares
That the scourge of plague us once bestowed

Behind deaths angel, the sunset-glow darken
Shadow thickens under oaken leaves
Soon the last powerstreams of summer droop
Around the dwelling of fire on the city of the dead

And as an echo of the black death
Still lingers forgotten under the song of the wind -
A messy remnant of the dark fares
That the scourge of plague us once bestowed

The plague cemetarye nook of cracked stone
Closeby, here slumbers in the place of centuries

The whisper from the past converges
With the temple of death of our own time