Esme Two

Water runs softly, there's a need for grace, to ease my swollen feet, strained in my moans, I settle at this place, heart against bone, have to leave the city, blown here by the rain, carry all that's with me, alone in this grotto, there are words to say, how to atone, for all the grim testimony, given me this day, that price is offertory, when fatuous jokes kill me, all the useless games, discretion becomes inventory, I want to receive, to throw away the cage, delighted to believe, the sunshine on my face.