Lie in the pale summer heatnFind a clock as it ticksnOh, to never sleepnBut the clock ticks so loudnLike the cracking of whipsnTill the sun slowly heavesn>From the blood hungry landnTo its heaven of bluennRun, through the dust and the stonesnLike a stream as it flowsnThrough the kingdom of peacenBut a beast roamed his headnLike the aching of guiltnAs it bakes in the heatnAs its swollen tongue speaksnRobs the old of their breathnnHang beneath dawns scarlet archnWhere the wind ever moansnLike the slaveship it drifts