Gate of horn, gate of bone
Through which gate do I go?
Alone but for the hornet on my
left eye: a sting for the guy
Who wrote The Golden Bough,
and one for "Death be not proud..."
Words to a carcass carrying me
For want of a toll, a cash fee.
Think briefly on what you're allowed to perceive.
Nirvana comes quickly to those of us who grieve.
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