When the ink is dry

or at your death-bed

you can damn your poison words



It seems you have run out of regard

for moralistic ideals

Just turn your head

when confronted with the truth

and hope that your new life

is all that you wished for



Adjusted the definition of loss



Is it just coincidence that it fits so well here?

Restitution comes passing through

and it won't even walk through the first door



Face north and greet the cold that times your pulse

North, directionally outright, straightforward

Face north and greet the cold that times your pulse

North, truest of all points

Points, that you have failed to make