Once in halls of gilded splendour,
When the sky shone soft and tender,
Dreams beguiled my will to render
Faith to promises profane.
Yet the tongues of men are fleeting,
Forked and cruel, with venom bleeding,
Every oath be doomed repeating,
Slick and sweet as acid rain.
Depths of thought and sin unspoken,
Shattered vows by faiths long broken,
Writhing spectres, acid-soaken,
Float where judgement cannot see.
Is the pit within me turning?
Or does its fumes, unbidden, burning,
Draw from me this vile yearning
To embrace its misery?
Is it I, whose soul is failing?
Or the void whose call prevailing
Turns me blind, my mind derailing,
While the promise pulls me back?
Do not answer; just keep praying,
Threads of truth keep softly fraying
As my heart in madness braying,
Longs to drink the seething black.