VI. The Muck

This untethering is in infancy / Partitions fragmented / Ascent only reveals groundtruth // Feel this seeping wound, doubt its miracle like the prodder / Know the moment true and fleeting. Naked and frenzied, amidst the laughter / Quickly now, the map will close, mirrored casing folding over the opening / Wrapping ether and armor over the unhealed / The love of the tribe mends when brittle, but we cannot stay here any longer // Take this piece of charred foundation, splintered rib of the temple / Abandon notions of pathways out and leave behind burnt offer / Pierce the herd with embers, the gripping tales choking violent chords / Free them of poisoned polite banter / Leave behind a bellowing chorus / The rhyming chants must echo, for every Brother still-bound tight / The sung history hidden in currents beneath the script // Set the stories ablaze, the smoothed streams of abstracted lore / Filtered threads of dulled edges, stacked in server blade homes / The library’s torches are not to burn it down / But to hunt for morels in the ash // May the rare forage trace the fall to tributes end.