Lofty Absolution

Beyond life's unforgiving chimera
this grapnel has no hold-way;
Hector sounds his harl,
my voice no longer sings, 
silent jobations resound within my conscience,
a saint's footsteps led thee to this place,
this turret chains me to its tenet, 
for all who follow, launder, and loiter
within this morose Hyle walk in
dead sleep; 
mansions and judicious horrid landscapes
canvas this glorious and dreadful place,
as death circumvents the hallways, ancient porticos, 
and Hellespont;
Will thy gods lift this curse from thy soul? 

- John Hardesty