Vision wallows about in Symphonies of Light
And emerging from the inner ocean
Shines forth the recollection of nought.
That strife perceives the summons
To a solemn funeral pile.
And the fleeting gleam of these flitting hours
Meets in her aspect and her gaze.
To you the strife was given.
River of life! You were not born for death.
He that has an ear, let him hear
What to me is nothing.
To the overcomer
Will vision's vultures
Divulge the auguries of slumber.
Gorging himself on a wailful choir.
These ephemeral truths he can impart.
To the convalescent and the basilisk.
Anthems reek of burned animal horn
Thus Fetid skies sever the harvest
Of a quiet eye from her.
Vision wallows about in symphonies of fright.
Cadences of light.
And emerging from her inner ocean
Is that hymn she bore well.
The torments of her bower
Bear a dust grain of lustre
Lest the stars totter in the guilt of his blood.
All your heirs wrung from you
Was but the peril which flung back
Unto night's innocent countenance.
Flailing at those hopeful chants that twinkle
And herald the sallow shroud
Which to gaudy days vision denies.
The voracious flames leave tenantless
Their master's abode
And strive toward the heavens
And languish for the pyre.
Why do you behold the mote
Which is in your brother's eye,
But do not perceive the beam
That is in your own eye?
Fetid skies sever the harvest
Of a quiet eye from me
And their bones are tombless
As is their flesh.
Ephemeral and solemn,
Brood and sleep on your heart
The tenantless spheres.
And so be to every kindred aspect
A barrier and a ban.
And the hapless lepers shall walk with me in white.
Anthems reek of burned animal horn
And fetid skies sever the harvest
Of a quiet eye from my people.
Vision wallows about in symphonies of light.
Cadences of fright.
And emerging from my inner ocean
Is that hymn you bore well.
By the blood
Out of every kindred
Out of every tongue
Out of every people
Out of every nation
The auguries of thunder
Are redeemed to my inner ocean.
Emerging from the waters
Shines forth the recollection of emptiness.
A polluted stream this recollection is, forsooth.
Hearkening unto the inherent void.
And hurling forth scanty fare.
For the leper cannot behold without envy, despair.
May he become an overcomer.
May she be a convalescent.
A bridge to me and not their goal.
Verily, a putrid stream this is.
