Time whispers,
when once it roared.

Meaning is barren,
without water
or seed to sow.

Lamentations,
but none remain
to lament.

I do not lead.
I do not follow.

Biding in the terminal,
neither is possible.

No more.
No longer.
Never again.

Threnodize not
my death, but that
of Mithras.

I am the last,
the very last alive
to venerate him.

The cult ends with me.
The religion ends with me.

It is the cessation of the
never-ceasing.

Hear and here,
an elegy for an era,
a requiem for an immortal.