HERE, MADRIGAL
Soma, and other things like that,
have kept me long moving along.
I mine the deep. I come up with
nothing. Listening to the sounds
of this miserable King, even his
royal tunes seem eternally lacking.
The words of some men praise him.
The words of others condemn. An
imprecise precision, I'd guess.
-
I put my face up to this glass panel.
What I seek seeing, I know I shall
never see. What I am always made
to listen to, I know that I will
never hear.
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