Throbbing to seam the
tattered perfection, time is...

The blackamoor Jazzes,
hellfire tangoes with my soul...

On the cash you say
"In God we trust" though the cash...

These shoddy people
they all are nothing but ears...

She put on a mask
realizing her old self...

The dawns of towns are
empowered by the spirits...

All her life searching
for real beauty seeing...

Those who've tried so hard
to sweep him away by brooms...

She noticed her face
was a mask amongst many...

How easy is to
conceal our shames behind...

The blood of whom they
worship: the blood of those they...

Horizon is the
paradox of arrival...