A steeple of needles thrust into our eyes So scholars might say we were blinded by pride Like the sin of Our Father (and the whims of our kind) Whom in Isaiah and Midian thrived Regaining His sights for the storming of skies...
And after descenturies have crawled, vilified Our dark harkened day on spread wing now arrives
For eternity is a coprophagic Backward figure head Gorging on Her own bitter end And We have eaten shit...
