9.
The door I bang on
Is invisible
My voice rang in the
Void
And your name dies on my lips
Every time I call it
Though I do everything right
I bind my mind
In blind faith
And chant your name
A hundred times
Breaching on heresy
Yet. . .
Your voice does not come to my ear
Not even blurry lines
In the wasteland of my amnesic
Memory
I hold your cloth
Like a talisman to my heart
But my imagination
Fickle as fire in a gale
Cannot fly heavenly high
It wanders about and sets
On the lowly grind
On a dirty, ugly, daily
Regime
And I bang on
From one o’clock to 2 o’clock
As a remembrance of a remembrance
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