To Mourn Is a Virtue

Tearful against empty heavens I again bow to this soil and weep As a mute mess of clouds crumbles the light Roses of blood, come and dwindle These watery eyes from where the tears do fall The wounds which no tool can erase Minutes long for hours Hour

Shine through me Satan Yes, live now through this tool of yours Live through me, O seditious star, And like a thousand suns shall I spread thy light Like a thousand plagues A thousand wars I bind for thee the hope of man Bound on earth, bound in heav