Can one speak the Lacuna?
I might as well describe the void
In all its radiant darkness
Watch as the carrion dances a jig
Marvel at the gibbets who welcome you in
We feed the astomatous stones a supper
Gulping down rich mossy earth
As alabaster crumbs fall into dewy pools
Sliced stone pours silkily through time
As Kronos shouts at eternity
There, the Sun inhales the light
Scattering afar bright black dust
Lo, this is the house where the dead speak
And the living lay soundless in the sand
Their ancestral halls drenched with despair
For they spill the cup of salvation
And joyously profane Her name
Look! There afar, the manacled Shade
Nobly slurping the pear from its fingers
As the Lacuna finally swallows its throne
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