Dismal Autumn Skies on an Anglian Eve

The sun disappeared and the world became
Mute in the dull of a dismal evening.
Above, the skies grew grey with Autumn's flame
As clouds massed to celebrate our leaving.

...What have we left?

Everything had fallen apart and we
Were standing in the desolated streets,
Alone in that pathetic fallacy
Spitting rain which glorified our defeat.

...What have we left?

The universe decayed and left embers
Of our hope consumed by harvest fires;
We died alone in that weak September
Beneath the wreak of Autumn's ire.