Thou lifeless ghostly soul of creaking noise,
Distant echoes consumed by muses’ prayer,
Who lisped and whispered – shouted! – griefs and joys,
While stitching patient rhythms into air:
What cringing shadows or soaring ospreys,
Things once caged and cloned in waveless numbers,
Are called to dance in pattern of their birth?
What Hades, what river styx, here slumbers?
What Charon carries sounds across the ways,
And back again –sharp specters to the earth?
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