Of secret stabs in words, in looks, in gestures.
Man is a chimera’s eremite,
That lures him from the good kindness of days
Which only ask his willingness.
There is a crazed shadow from no golden body
That poisons at the core
What smiles may stray:
It mixes with all God-ancestralled essences,
And twists the brain and heart.
This shadow sits in the texture of Saul’s being,