Where are you now? Who lies beneath your spell tonight?
Whom else from rapture’ s road will you expel tonight?
Those “Fabrics of Cashmere — ” “to make Me beautiful — ”
“Trinket” — to gem — “Me to adorn — How tell” — tonight?
I beg for haven: Prisons, let open your gates —
A refugee from Belief seeks a cell tonight.
God’ s vintage loneliness has turned to vinegar —
All the archangels — their wings frozen — fell tonight.
Lord, cried out the idols, Don’ t let us be broken;
Only we can convert the infidel tonight.