Gates of Ivory, Gates of Horn

I cannot even breath for drowning
In the cloying irony here
That is all that is left behind
Of that which passed through ivory gates

My murder bides mutely upon
White walls of callous concrete truth
Still against the hour of my troth
That paroled hope to there unwished

But if those lies march boldly forth
Through ivory gates that gleam like bone
Then girded thus with flights of horn
Comes black murder out of grey

So comfort me as is your right
Acquitted not to me but paid
Tomorrow as your potter’s price
For when you hear the sound of wings

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