Wading into a sea of dissonance rife with the defecation and debris of a cause long suffocated under the weight of their stagnant guilt. Not a one of the herd with their heads above water. Lungs flooded with resignation cannot call out to the resolute for salvation, for they are drunk with the splendour of vices exonerated unto deification. Burnt hands can no longer reach for the sun, for the knees have been bent backwards - ???? (unintelligible) - to disinter virtue would be to rob ones' own grave of mourners.