We scream to the heavens

and plead with the pit

below…

…but I find no solace

in either, death in paradise, life

in purgatory, Milton thanks me

for the memory but I have no

recollection of his face,

I can never be brave enough

to light his candle and see

the reflection of pain

and madness in copperplate grind, production and feel

damns our day, in memory, in shadows, in shadows…

…whisper goodbye and good purchase

for your songs, for your psalms…

…whisper