| In the marbled reception hall I received a three band gold ring, from Mark.
|
| A token of esteem. |
| Running through ghost closet locker rooms, to hide from
|
| Peter, who has fallen to the old cold stone floor, wheezing and emitting a
|
| seemingly endless flow of ectoplasmic white goo from ears and mouth.
|
| A wind rushes through the hall, whistles as it breezes through the narrow
|
| slits in the green locker doors. |
| I hide in one of these, number thirteen
|
| Barely concealed but hopeful
|
| Blackout
|
| Blackout!
|
| I will clinb this high wall
|
| In rememberance of Clancy
|
| To regain or re-earn my life
|
| As I died just a flicker of an eyelid ago
|
| The wall has many holes
|
| And many foot pieces to fasten to
|
| The wall is dangerous, and this is my penance
|
| My penance and my task
|
| I did it once and they wondered
|
| Yet I need to go, once more around
|
| Up breathtakingly
|
| Across rigidly
|
| Down easily — and foolishly
|
| I endeavoured again
|
| To climb the wall in vain
|
| And capture back my chain
|
| Of lillies and remains
|
| Of lillies and remains
|
| Of lillies and remains |