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like salt flung at a blackened hearth

More from "We are the bones of forgotten explorers" album

We are the bones of forgotten explorers

Shrouded in veils of lunacy and fear

Digging in directions misunderstood

compassless, starless, still insisting

I cannot be, inconvertibly and without

striving for us to acknowledge

the soft machinery of blame

the clang of it, the cheap bright coin

Deflecting, cast aspersions gracelessly