This message hastens lest we both go down br Scattered, with no character, to death; br Death is untutored, with an ignorant frown br For precious identities of breath. br But you perhaps will say confusion stood, br A vulture, near the heart of all our kin: br I've heard the echoes in a dark tangled wood br Yet never saw I a face peering within. br These evils being anonymities, br We fulminate, in exile from the earth, br Aged exclusions of blood memories- br Those superstitions of explosive birth; br Until there'll be of us not anything br But foolish death, who is confusion's king.