Ansoon

The triple, tarnished moons who hover over Ansoon
Warp and wander upon waves of methane.
Horns of coal lift and toll a low, hollow tune,
From skiffs of silver mist and crystal cane.

Peaks glazed in glass black and cracked
Trap and sap the emerald acid dew,
That endeavors to sever the ice-isle in two
Through tunnels tremoring yet untracked.

The silicon spires of haunted city Hausim
Hang hissing lamps of lead in their heights,
Not to annul twilight with all that's bright,
But to suck, drink, and drain the gleam dim.

Shrunken eyes and sunken cheeks in wire mesh
Belong to beings bearing skin calloused like bark.
Painful pride survives, resides in such flesh,
For it has outpaced and embraced an alien Dark.