I am drowned in the cauldron of unwholesome sounds
That explode my cortex and lobes.
Even my breath now is strangled with words
That hammer and blast without ounces of sense
In a circus of unlimited rites.
But I'm the lead actor who's hammed all his lines
And waits for an immediate exit, stage left.
Gazing with the honesty of well-practiced whores,
I who had vaunted my unorthodox claims,
Mime all my acts in theatres of shame
And stifle with sanctified hope.
Deafened and mute, I wait for my cues
And crash amid thunders of cymbals and bells.