How love, too, might curl from blind to hate
Consummated towards that Saharan fate
Hearts turned sand from Satan’s slumber
Withered like ashen Christmas lumber

If snow falls in a forest
Might the honest stir?
Will bears actually turn into lumber?
I’ve holy doubt
I stock hope in flame-stirring embers

How clarities burl too strong to mate
Evacuated towards some medallion fate
Mysteries turned ice from unity’s thunder
Hardened like diamond into Christic wonder

If snow falls in a forest
Might the dead stir?
Do bears actually turn into lumber?
I’ve holy doubt
I harbor hope in pot-stirring surrenders

If snow falls in a forest
Might the still whir?
Do wills actually lump into blunder?
I’ve holy doubt
I harbor hope in all man’s tenders
True tenders embrace
The meaning of usury’s original definition
False tenders graze
True tender’s our fate
(Holy doubt stays anything but ashen)
I’ve holy weight
(Holy fate rears everythin’ a-pinnaclin’)

[Malamatiyya hymns.]

How sin, “too,” unfurls from dust to din
In absence we ride into Jim’s final fate
Hearts turned bleak, outta neglect (outta slumber)
Withering and ashenin’
Like Christ’s holy lumber

I’m holy doubt
(Moby-Dick)
Humility is the clout inside that binds me
I’ve holy clout
(“Holy Dick”)
Humility is my doubt (“Come find me”)

If snow falls in a forest
Will angels stir?
(How love, too, might curl from burl to burl)
Or do demons actually slur into lumber?
I’ve holy doubt
(Everlastin’ tree in an always-on forest)
I put my hope into pot-stirring embers
Humility is our doubt
Drums cyclin’ “Holy War”
Through every one of our victories
“Come find us”

Humility is our doubt
(“Don’t come rust”)
Drums cyclin’ “Holy War”
Through battle-ready synchronicities
“Don’t vibe sus”