Forgive the match for blackened lung
and trace the ivory smoke from towers high
where we learn the secrets of slowly growing dumb.
Uneasy hands anxious, needlessly wrung
numb, empty, meaningless, dry
excise the heart in favor for this blackened lung
from which praises sung
hoarse and bleeding, cry
for the absolution of slowly growing dumb.
For once I will not bemoan my insufficient [...]
