These days
Of tragic disbelief
Have those who were born to reside
As miserable
As witness and that is all
Listening to festivities
Bells
Sounds of festivities
“to partake of me, tonight”
As mad fiend’s elaborate unholy requisitions
I am the novice and no longer want to learn
My contribution will not be missed by the huge ultimate other
Mosaics before our eyes close down the wooden huts
In one night scenes out on the coast
I would rather lay them at your feet and start no panic
These days