The Claim

Bringing a thousand lies,
I near her again;
to raise claim -
defence in a mad wake?
no! not to liberate;

Alone in a place of many,
bringing no glory:


Toss the dead milk in me,
it is the seed of man;

(The claim came with wings,
thus fertility is tossed by her lake);

You abstain to glorify death?

I do nothing, for the lost;

Weep the dead tears in me,
it is the trust of man;

(The claim came with wings,
thus faith is wept by her ocean);

You mourn to glorify death?

I do nothing, for the lost;

Swallow the dead blood in me,
it is the guilt of man;

(The claim came with wings,
thus redemption is swallowed by her river);

Live then to glorify death!

I do nothing for the lost!
I did nothing, but lost.