Sky Disc

Eye, hung on a pin,
high above a smouldering,
ancient world,
sees all, knows all,
saw us before we came into being.
This solemn vizor may yet smile
upon little feeble ways,
displays of petty anger,
wars, hurt and more.
Placate it, lest there be wrath forecoming,
greet its rising complexion,
each and every day.