Consider

I've lost my patience.
As if one day we'll all come around.
I have no patience.
No, sit down
No, sit down and listen to me.
Now you think I'm running.
The shadow moves closer, touches me.
Sand touches hand,
touches life,
touches mind,
touches lies,
touches sky,
it touches.
In a trance I must stand, blood touches.
The ants climbing higher.
The ants don't desire.
They say that the end is coming soon.
Not even a year left to breathe.
The judgment of heaven rain down on me.
Silence is wicked.
Don't bury your head.
Don't reach for the sound.
Our singular conscience may rise from the ground.
We'll hide in the garden instead.
And consider the lord of the monkey is dead.