Yawning sun
do you speak for the revenants of
the dying day?
My guide through evening song
recalcitrant, and ossified
Sleep, for the hours
Sleep, for the hours
I cleave to the tower
howling, standing under the
obsidian moon
All of my tears fall away
through chaparral
and earth and stone
to meet the dead
Sleep, for the hours
Sleep, for the hours

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