My sins are purged,
I never had time for lazy-pacing.
I couldn’t take truce with the unruly
Spleen of hate, the piercing steel,
The hateful streaks of light, which break
Through the clouds and the night’s candles.
It is a pale reflection of anger,
I’m an unweeded garden that grows to seed.
It’s something many might not esteem
I’ve become a beast that has a discourse of reason,
Poetry is an ecstasy of love.
Even for those who fell into sadness,
Those that sucked honey out of their music vows,
The feeling is like sweet bells jangled
Out of tune and harsh.
I proclaimed my malefactions
I have grounds more relative,
My inclination is sharp as will.
I feel like the King of shreds and patches
I want to chant snatches of old tunes.
Report me and my cause aright to the unsatisfied
I’m in a league with success,
Don’t stand in my way
You will sink in my rebuke.