Fallen Light

Bright spark, shining,
Light in the damp
And dirty cloud,

Warm glow's comfort,
Held in open hand,
Clings to grimy fingers

Give us this day,
Our daily ash,
Blackened lungs
And heroes spent.

Widow, tell me,
Of great and mighty Ajax,
Let him not be covered
By foul dirt, or glinting armour
Gifts of heaven.

Grimy fingers, clutching
Paper or swords,
I know not.

Dirty cloud, forebodes
A rapid doom,
From shining life