O framed, grace fall, broken, forgotten
Where depths erode God’s hand
The grime, the coarse, all the vile
I sup the bile of man
I bathe in the waste of man

Gleaming eyes through filth
Of caravaggio scorning
Fading, a bowed ray of light
Memories in halo, to paint away this mind

Walls of shadow, wells of sorrow, they call my name

Pallid vessel
Gnarled, arched, and true
Cynosure, the poisoned arrow
The brush, tendrils of mine
Reaching, composing, violating
All my blessings

Of mortar and mould
Nails trace their cold faces
Upon weary stone stares
The art of my haemorrhage

A portrait to this dolour
Tetraptych, these walls
Panels loom limbo
The endless forms of suffering
Smothering

I, enthroned
Dethroned
Where this existence belongs
I sit, I breathe, I wait
Upon this mound of bones
The gallery stares
I am home
I am home