On the heap, Thou dangle and screech And bedeck, for I seemingly espouse. The anecdotes and myths: Engaged in a mutual pose. There comes the hymn, And the sway and the hum; The abnormality and the deform Halted on a single stance. To dozen of the tokens Whom I prejudged; The prevalence of the chaos That sleeps merely on my tongue. To all the estrangements From which I refrain, Within the bawl of the tantrum, upon the hook of the day. Farewell to all, farewell the haze Farewell the cluster, To the resolution found within a fane; Where rituals confuse, Where the practice becomes a fame. There thou taketh solely, A hymn and an interminable haze. Whats the sense of the ovation When no screen displays A mourning motion For which no motion craves? I sigh, and mumble To which mere consciences giveth To me only, mine solely. His to hear and his, keenly.