Pain and Wrath Are the Singers

Fixed to decay Knotted by habit The rituals of bound bodies The dull resonance that vibrates through these days The afternoon’s meshes Pale clotted light I tremble in nightmares of silence Lonely nights in empty houses The night’s slow poison Aimless years from nothingness to nothingness again Kneeling before a void Brought into being in order to suffer New and dreadful liberty Pain and wrath are the singers The great work is a stone