the hall of the mountain god

with careful step the hill we climb
the temple there is pale and old
the trees are bare feeling the cold
stark walls are here coated with rime
sensations far from being sublime
enfold us this is not the story told
to those who climbed up here for gold
this place reminds us of another time
the god has long departed from his place
the priests still shuffle with feet of woe
no sacrifice suffices for our need
above us in the infinity of space
the stars in their fixed patterns go
and infinite divinities their ichor bleed