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.

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