Luyện nghe bài hát III (Fear)

The spirit songs scream across wind-burned
the rind of my very soul
Corrosive embrace
In an miasma of dissolution

A threnody that scours with the raptor claws
Of a of unrealized purpose

And it as at this point revelation strikes
the force of a thousand driven spear-points

A face with the lexicon of destitution
Stares back pallid, jaundiced eyes
That with suppressed, shrieking desperation
To
To claw the threads of cloying carnation
To force this sarcophagus
Into the beneath my feet
Abnegation - silence -
The only triptych I

Yet

not is thy solace
Within this patina of deathsoil
Still the stands tall
And in febrile shadows
Hopes of shrivel and die

I must on
I haul this weary patchwork of cursive limbs
Through a translucent
Endless, wake

Each tread summons the efforts of a scouring exhalations
Inch by inch, step by step, slowing,
Until - a puppet with strings severed by the scythe of embitterment
A figure