I do wonder every morning

If I dreamed a secret as I slept

And would I share it

If I were entrusted with a prophecy?

I do wonder at the hidden depths

Of priceless insights

Bound in tangled knots of craven secrecy

I remember the paths of the sightless guides

I remember the ties of a boundless pride

I remember a scoffer on a shoddy thronе

Holding forth in a voice like a dial-tone

I rеmember...

I do wonder as the sun sets

If the wasted day has been my last

A routine horror

Settles on my chest as I drift off to sleep

I do dream a hazy telecast

Of strange and sordid

Misadventures and distorted memories

(I remember the paths of the sightless guides

I remember the ties of a boundless pride

I remember a scoffer on a shoddy throne

Holding forth in a voice like a dial-tone)

I remember a friend who resembled death

I remember his guile and his rancid breath

I remember the stink, and the bitter taste

Of the poison he promoted as a means of escape

I remember...

I do pray that I might see beyond

The evening’s headstone

And the pendulum’s silent charade