The night, corpse-quiet, still intrudes
Inhaling deep the secrets we keep
Exhaling truth, the ghosts of the used
Stand accusing, compounding insomnia
With madness, stretched eyes gaze from above
Outlined in the luminescence
Of the whore of the heavens
Who swore against her stained hands
Steadily proclaimed innocence
After the world bore witness
To the crimes she committed
Dispassionately, the bloodied sun rises
Again, every mourning, tireless
Fingers reaching through the trees
I miss the night, corpse-quiet
By evening, I'll give everything
To settle into my grave again.
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