The moon was sat tight
After Dusk’s light...

Since when has the murder of a calmly breath...
How dare you spit in the face of the only true...

Drudgedly hung
The harp-bow strums...

Drips the salts,
Licking the Slate...

Serpent watching,
Serpent near...

We hear what makes us deaf,
We see what makes us blind...

The Painting is dull
Greens, blacks, and greys...