| The Distance, Busy with Shadows |
|---|
| In heaps they were |
| the deads stacked high |
| I crapped and sang among them. |
| Black was I, yet bent to it; |
| God and I had shown them. |
| It fell at my feet |
| No! |
| It didn’t just come to me to heal its wounds |
| I will kiss it |
| It is within me now. |
| I feel the birth of doom |
| And the fruit of my body, |
| Stares right out of this room |
