Intrinsically inscripted, we bear words like bones
Drawn from the ground with a finger printing homunculus tomes
We are living, bleeding, ink breathing out creating on our own
Pulsating verses, blesses/curses, poems chiseled in stone
Hide this dust beneath Your nails so I can watch You work
Handcrafted myths, grafted within the shists of the earth
Golems in doldrums, no shem, and clay for a berth
But still You chose to count the sand, sloppy wet spit in the dirt
And rub the grit in our eyes so that we can behold our worth