Flies who by jet can

Travel thusly,

Anachronisms that 

Our kind must be,

Bringing such 

Technology to bear

On the lightness of

The summer air,

Too seigneurial 

To hide

Our mastery of the time

And tide:

Save us, shade us

From the sky

Through which our ancient 

Horrors fly,

Send us back to where

We lie in night,

Before we dare the sun 

And die from sight.