NaPoWriMo - 2018 - Day eighteen - Beneath a bronze sky

Beneath a bronze sky

Soon as we clear harbour we set sail, make quick
and furtive offerings to all the spirits we know
—as incompatible as some must surely be,
but everything is so ad hoc these days—beneath

the broken skies. What are the odds? We'll travel to
the ends of the Earth if required, our quest for Gods
to replace the ones we lost. Who knew a city state
could survive the loss of its patron deity?  Who knew

that life went on but strangely empty now She's gone:
who I won't name?  How does an entire pantheon
just fail? Who knows?  These things are not for mortal men
to gossip about, but there's no choice, we need our Gods

and so... our quest cannot be blessed. We set our sail.

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