They all turn,
And they look down,

They won’t focus
And they will drown

Bango strings ring in my ears
I can feel the sun on my skin
The heat is unbearable and yet I found
some comfort in it

Stewing in a coffin of fowl smells,
How ashamed do I have to be to lie down

I’ll wait for the bango strings to come back
strumming,
I’ll hear that sweet string float and flutter in
the air
Vibrating without fault

If listening can get me out of here,
Will they listen?

Sweetly ground

Humus periculus they told me

I no longer want to enter that sweet and
sickly slumber.

don’t leave me here