i have to start the next verse
i have to continue the rhyme
i pray again in the tendrils of smoke
sweetsmelling echoes
sound is made deep within the skull's grove
but scent hides herself even deeper
i can't separate the two -
the story, the scent, the rhythm -
i praise again in the round
that has been beating like my veins
since we hid in the folds of rock
and traces our fingers on sticky damp walls
i have to praise again in a tongue that's not mine
i have to borrow the notes
and pick the strings meant to soothe the sullen king.
i have to pray again in a tongue that's not mine
i have to sing in borrowed notes
please
please know i am an honest thief -
i just wanted to join the ancient rhyme.
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