There’s a loudspeaker in the belltower! 
No wonder there’s no God. 
We’ve made the clarion call hollow as our promises, 
forced the angels to fly on Icarus wings. 
The eucharist is piss and ink, 
And there’s a loudspeaker in the belltower! 

How’s that for cutting my kite string and breaking my dreams?
This world is more false than it seems. 
Like a love I carved using a blunt knife optimism, 
Curs’ed thing slipped all over the place; 
but every finger I lost is a tribute to procrastination, 
dedication, and desperation most of all. 

What sad state of affairs, 
This blank-slate, fresh-start prison poison,
What wandering advance of gloom,
What wondering advance of hate!

I’m tearing apart the rose now,
each disenchanted petal loosening the sliver-glass shackles of community and friendship.
This is an hour for absolution , these ties have served me not!

So to hell with these bones of mine, marrow won’t hold memory.
Obligations are fleeing;
fast, like quicksand in a windstorm and it is  raining empathy.  

Found someone for it;
A sister who sees blood as bled and not poured like water.
Someone with a lioness heart and an atlas back and a face made to furrow.
Thank you for your kinship.
You pacified this re-birthquake and flooded my emotional arson.

But it is too much to expect such and I was sure even your understanding would sour but

You put BELLS IN THE BELLTOWER!! 
How sweet they ring!
There is passion beyond fission, after all!
Sawbones my brain-cage a thousand ties more,
I’d remember how tonight’s triumph smelled of roses,
tasted of almonds, and felt like fate. 
Two candles clear a greater darkness;
Listen to the bells!
They sound like love.