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Tremendous Deceit
December 10, 2010
The dreary abstract we hold,
My friend, in a circle we soar.
Blinded sight of ours—too bold,
My friend, in a circle we roar.
But fallen of your sorrowful valor!
Longing those of Heaven sent—
Lamenting love with greed,
Cursing yourself and never freed.
Remember the deadly abstract we hold,
My friend, in a circle we played.
But Death awaits us to unfold,
My friend, unfold the story of our dismay.
And here is the act we enthrone,
My friend, the fleeting blasphemy.
For there is the curse of your groan,
My friend, they’re all yours—the agony.
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