The Eleventh Hour

When the bells call in the Eleventh hour
Amber-eyed doves cry out and flee in haste,
Sunlight shrinks from the ivory tower
And its spires too; mottled and ivy-laced.

The grating chimes ring through all of Venice
Grimly echoing down the shady lanes,
Striking fear into the butcher’s menace
Silencing the songbird’s merry refrain.

And Lo! the mighty sky’s all a-quiver
As the Unholy pound against its doors,
Soon to break, under the ever quicker
Tides, sweeping up to the End’s blackened shores.

Behold humanity’s immortal plane,
Embedded in the rocks of mortal bane.

PS- No, I did not intend it to refer to the documentary "The Eleventh Hour"