Diapsalmata

On two broken hands, the lights go out.
Pain breaks out from the heart of one to weak to cry or shout.
This script is written in thin ink again -
the levi breaks, my excuses pour forth into my soul and onto my hands.

Purgation of heaven, come and burn away the stain.

Touch my lips, for I will soon die.

The man with a stone cold heart sees the vapor in the mirror...

Let it be in You. Amen.