Inside the crumbling factories
We sometimes call ourselves,
We stumble over decades
Of decay
And how we mean to extricate,
But he or she who delves
May see the light, but still not
Find the way
And Lord, I have been lost,
And I have seen the lost lose everything,
And join the greater stillness
Far too soon
But silence has its reasons
That the grieving understand,
And though we be not here,
There’s none
Immune