Silence In the House of Death
THIS PERSON WHO IS HE IN MY HOUSE
WHY DON'T ARISE IN MY JARGON-ED NAME
MY SOUL IN DESPAIR
I HAVE AN INHUMAN INVENTATION TO THIS AMALGAMATING AUDIENCE
OF ARSON
SKELETON 'S ARE IN ADMISSION, THE GHOST IN REPETITION WITH GHOULS
IN DISPOSITION
MY BONES' CRIES ARE FEARLESS IN UNANSWERED
FILLING THE ROOM WITHOUT ENOUGH ACCOMIDATIONS
A DEEP NARROW PATH APPERS OUT OF PARTICIPATION
WHILE THE REAPER BEGANS THE TRASLATION
I FEEL THE INVOICE OF SORROW
WITH DEATH'S INCOMPETTENT BARROW
HE STEALS THE SHAMEFUL TOMOARROW
I STAND IN LUXURY OF ;OUD-SPEACKING MAN OF POWER
CLOCKS TURN MANIPULATING EVERY HOUR I AM LIKE A NEWBORN IN A
MIDNIGHT SHOWER
NEVER FEELING THE SAME
AS I WALK TO SIT DOWN BY THE FIRE, I PLACE MYSELF
AS I 'M STOOPED OVER IN THE MIDDLE,
I AM STRUCK BY A FIDDLE
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