When a Great Man Passes
When you've watched a great man wither and call for death,
all mortal concerns drown in the context,
and your wicked doors of perception are splattered with blood,
and left to loom like a demented god.
So free your bells to toll their oppressive tone,
from the top of your austere gramophone,
that your raised in the shadow of your god's cruel hand,
as an atonement for a life spent in reprimand.
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