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Description
Today is the Day of Defeat,
Today the day when stones sing instead of men as
Promised, the day when
    Little Ai refuses to go quietly into the Outer Darkness,
  The day when there is sin in the camp and
The day when nothing happens when you pull the trigger.

Unwanted, feet that belong to blank faces
Stomp the street and whisper, looking down,
Like weary streetwalkers painted and rouged up
     Only to find that no one will buy,
   Desperate the man who asks again for
A chance.

Today is the day when the sun retreats farther
And faster than we thought. Today
When defeat is, it is deep and it is long, a
     Chasm that goes far down into the
   Dark heart of things, into the core of the world
  And pulls up silvery ghosts to sigh and explain
To wondering men what futility tastes like
     They know it well in the core where
     The Outer Dark becomes Inner Dark, where it is
     Not a thing of monsters with fangs but monsters
     With haircuts, or rather monsters that are
     Not all that special at all.

Today is the Day of Defeat where Trojan ants
Dance across rust fields and are blown away by
A greater force, the Hellene gust that they
     Fear because they are wise but must go out
   Anyway because it is what must be done,
  What must be endured to any end.

Description
Today is the Day of Defeat,
Today the day when stones sing instead of men as
Promised, the day when
    Little Ai refuses to go quietly into the Outer Darkness,
  The day when there is sin in the camp and
The day when nothing happens when you pull the trigger.

Unwanted, feet that belong to blank faces
Stomp the street and whisper, looking down,
Like weary streetwalkers painted and rouged up
     Only to find that no one will buy,
   Desperate the man who asks again for
A chance.

Today is the day when the sun retreats farther
And faster than we thought. Today
When defeat is, it is deep and it is long, a
     Chasm that goes far down into the
   Dark heart of things, into the core of the world
  And pulls up silvery ghosts to sigh and explain
To wondering men what futility tastes like
     They know it well in the core where
     The Outer Dark becomes Inner Dark, where it is
     Not a thing of monsters with fangs but monsters
     With haircuts, or rather monsters that are
     Not all that special at all.

Today is the Day of Defeat where Trojan ants
Dance across rust fields and are blown away by
A greater force, the Hellene gust that they
     Fear because they are wise but must go out
   Anyway because it is what must be done,
  What must be endured to any end.