Die Kunst der Fuge

Now the killed waits for the killer The vanquished are more and more resembling the conqueror A scry readable from the least of routs, the least of earthquakes of terrorist attacks coming with the charm of time In as much as they are unforeseeable still continuing to be part of our going concern as well as being non of our business Is death resisting us with all its might after a lifelong duress finally to cede Or can it be that death nor life can be exchanged against anything Their waxing and waning, alternating- nothing else.