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There remains no monuments
To our vanity
No cenotaphs
To subsumed glory
Buried by the weight of years

We fashioned fate from the tyranny
Of thought
And the failure of noble intent
The failure of noble intent

And the great river of our blood roars in protest.
Tributaries swallowed by the
Grim god of silence
The god of silence

Relentlessly we wove the skeins
Heedless of our doom
Lashing to our lives
The promise of failure

And I will build within myself
A monument of flagellation
I will silence my tongue
And sacrifice myself to the empty vault of the firmament

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