To tame my memory's wild beasts and herd my mind's eye's demons,
I rue the sins of times to come and kiss the crowns of heathens.
Lost am I despite my dreams to breathe and to inspire
Sullen shades who gargle sorrow in this sable mire.
Hark! I hear the spirits sigh and curse their retribution;
Contrapasso wounds the damned but cleans the world's pollution.