I'm nearly sure that I live within those
heavy rhythms, the beats unknown that yet...

In the cathedral my eyes dart back and
forth; tracing pitchers of holy water...

Re-arrange the letters floating on the page,
and bring some sense to the static I hear...

Distant, sharp-tongued and forever drifting away...
former glory, drenched in shadows and daggers. And...

I wasn't there when black crows took
June and made it a living nightmare fit...

Dear Edwin, the puppet controlled by fear
and a fraying strand of fate. His lonely heart...