Oh, the circling vultures refuse to gnaw out my heart
Though the crows mock me as supreme squires with
their judicial caws
I've stumbled on this curse again, will not depart,
This meddling with my God;
Gilded cages, silent rages
Weathered every season
Upon these history pages
Bourne this unspoken reason
Why thy madness beckons me?
To this wreckage of wilt
That lures Me back to thee
And this abundance of guilt.
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