This coincidental superstition perfused
the leniency of desolation
The belt that once held my sins together
seems to strangle my inner cities
I silenced your melancholic gaudy
face in bare facts
No co-operation needs to be done
Many of them were bribed
I gathered courage and played along
with the omen of armistice
The silence pierced my superstition
and I assassinated my candle
The railing-offs made the candle
gutter more melancholically
I wreathed your beauty and
you preoccupied my inability
The sins headed off this faith