To suffer from a long, lost dread,
A grievance sinking in your head.
Remembering from a distant past;
The pain of phantom injuries last.
Recuperating dirges lift the soul,
In place of cantos, circulating droll.
Hate, no spite, that which bites;
Across a land of lonely sprites.
Exhale spuriously as tension mounts,
Turning twice as emptying accounts.