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