An abscess weeps like Isho on the tree. Here is a cup of its pus; take it, and drink deep.

Three long years Three sickening words Ringing ever hollow Now never uttered Was a mask so easy to discard? A death by a thousand careless cuts Lacerated, discarded to waste It decays in your house, unburied Dressed like a maggot-infested mannequin A marionette dancing to fickle fancy Tugging, yanking strings on the corpse Its limbs fall off, gangrenous Ignored by the carrion-eating birds I vomit sickness I expel rot Glittering with bile Now abandoned forevermore I discard my own mask in kind