Now comes the daybreak, biting and cold.

Now comes the morning unending.

Now comes the eagle, 

The eagle.

The eagle.

Then comes the day, frightful, alone.


Do you regret it, Prometheus, I wonder?

The pile of fat, the pile of bone. 

Do you regret it— 

The defiance, the yearning

For something yours only, 

a people called home?


Your chains are unbreakable, 

for me, only human. 

I hit them with hammers,

I hit them with fists. 


Blood of a god,

Blood of a mortal, 

Spills on the mountain,

The air wet with mist.


Do you remember, Prometheus, 

the days that were painless?

When you shaped me from clay—

When we made flutes from old bone?

Do you remember the time before 

Hurting and waiting, 

before days upon days

Of blood, and cold stone? 


Now comes the nightfall, biting and cold.

Now comes the darkness unending.

Now come the hearth fires,


and blazing.

When you see them, remember:

We’re never alone.