Come tell the self-penned book
all about its contents therein
written in dazzling light
even in sanguine era

Come tell the self-penned book
that which you hold in malice
an scribbled in ink of hemlock
as you squirm in envious pits

Come tell the self-penned book
your long gone minds can read
when you see wrong as right
and live graceless in soot

Come tell the self-penned book
your worth in negative flares
a thousand swallows is not a summer
pitch darkness lives in fear of penetrating light