these are the daysof weary obedienceto the fearful edictsof frightened menwe are yet savagesbeneath our surfacesand we hunger stillfor reassurancesbeyond our bordersso sit yourself down to take sustenance at your father’s tabletake what you willfrom what’s offerednot by violencebut through loveand the good graceof your lesser demonsthe aching hoursdrone into eternityand we are aloneinside closed