Spero Dimas

Like a never ending tumult,

coming down as a massive horde.

It eats away the pavement like a deceiving cult,

eroding the soul of their lord.

Humans defend against it with umbrellas and coats,

Trees cloak themselves in their leaves.

Yet, to no avail, for the rain eventually shaves them to their oats.

As for our species, we cannot hold and heave this burden.

We will be thrown down by nature,

whose floods and hurricanes threaten our livelihood,

and leave us helplessly calling to the gods like satyrs.

What in this world can be left as good?

If these arrows keep descending,

in a never ending tumult.