Hope is gone when one gives way, slight and subtle at your feet
Down I lay my hands wrung weary, a tattered drum have they beat
Loose the arrow into its blind flight, by warp and woof it carves her
Into the night seal the sun, na’er shall pass the weary one; sleep now, to rest the martyr
Until the quench, the morning drench, the promise, her renown
Come she whence the dark or light, what provenance her crown?
Matter and mother, apple and other, bringer of life and light
And cover me with knowledge, and bear me a burden, and force me into flight
Low hang the necks of the adorned for the adoring, what heavy stones to store
This, the story, of guilt and debt and glory, interest, always interest the more
The promise of man, this cornerstone, he must bear the weight of the world
his lust for her pieces carved into his thesis, for this, history’s pages are curled
When will it end this hope of man, will Kali recuse and take her leave?
When no longer stands, this mirror of man, and she can no longer deceive.