In the raging fire
Such evils transpire
To burn away the hope
Send me down the slope
Without my beating heart
The most important part
Of all that I am

Have I not wandered enough
Seen enough
Heard enough
To know that hidden wisdom which
The world seems unwilling
To provide?

Walls press in
Until they find my skin
On all sides
The ceiling gets low
And the floors upward grow
Till I am small
And too large
At once

I have often found
In the absence of sound
There is a rumble in the ground
Beneath my feet

If one can but hear
By turning your ear
Away from the noisome drear
Peace waits

Something of fire within me
Yearns to burn through
The years of crumpled papers
Of broken timbers
Of half-built staircases
That make me up

And then let rise
From the ashes
Something unshaped
By flammable things

Bring me your ghosts
Bring me your shadows
Bring me what frightens and haunts
And tell me a tale
Here beside the fire
That we might see specters in the flames

I wash my hands
I rinse my eyes
I trim my hair
I sleep away the day
Yet that which I touched
That which I saw
That which polluted all my being
Remains

Words fail me
When I stand in awe
Of the universe
Of the sun
Of the earth
Words fail me
When I stand in awe
Of our folly
Of our sins
Of the wretched wages of mankind’s actions