I.

Cloistered up inside molding prison walls
We sat, forgetting the fragrant palace halls
Tawdry kitsch mirrored ceilings
Failed to reflect refracted feelings
And, generally, we found ourselves appalled

II.

Dusty tomes etched in days of yore
Scattered and besmirched upon the floor
We couldn't read the text
So, left addled and perplexed
We forsook the illumined, hidden lore

III.

This juggernaut that lives inside my head
Began to wish to grind your bones for bread
But paper knaves feign cuts
And I can't bear to smell your guts
So I etched a map in my own skin instead

IV.

In axeman's blade I found gentle disease
As rested my chin betwixt my knees
(But) It was over over in a flash
No more blabbering balderdash!
And fantastic flayed freedom from the fleas!