Orion soars in ready stance to fight
The march of Time’s vast hordes that will not cease.
His knife on glimm’ring belt is swift and light,
His bow held high and poised to win us peace.
He sets so tall, not live but not deceased,
And raises club and blade to free our hands
From fetters set by Time, whose dread, obese,
And rav’nous gut consumes our days on lands.
With pow’rs that strive to match Time’s tough demands,
Orion brawls for us in stellar shows.
But should the massive force that Time commands
Prevail against that star who for us rows,
We must not pause or grieve, for we remain,
and stronger only for Time’s rope and chain.
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