Spiritist E*Vent
I begin tonight in distemper
Amealed with the embers of past rages
Veritably inclined to pass the time
Extolling quietly doting sinews:
Sorrowful sarcasm I must admit
Can only be rendered from wilting wit.
So very dense and mean the shackled mind
that lends itself to a vindictive style.
To see myself in the time of trouble
Can be lent to a crisp understanding.
My fellow traverses with eager pulls
Can gather around for a swift contour.
If my condition be a dark abode
Opened it would seem that a treasure flow.