So we met with Fate
And looked him in the eye.
So we killed the sleeping dogs
And left them there to Lie,
Whiteness burying the black,
Remeberance forgetting:
Truth is in a salad bowl
held in heart-shaped setting
So we watched the days go by
And eventually lost  track.
So we through the wolves ourselves
And then lay there in a stack,
Bound head and hand,
Our sanity exceeding
The wariness of will,
And souls bare bleeding.