The Tomb of Gilgamesh

I ask that You return me

The years I did ignore Thee

And with my burden bury

The weight of guilt I carry

And lead me to the well of life

Before my soul departs

Now I so clearly see how I have murdered me

and I cannot fake what I tried to make of myself; a God

Please heal me

The halls of countless erudite teeming with the self deified

Cloaked in snuffy habiliments

No need to strive for holiness

When beauty dies she leaves behind

The scars of dreams abandoned long ago

Where myriad wonders once repelled the onslaught of decay

Now given to the manifold miseries of mortal dismay

And out of joy is sorrow born the stained white halls are now forlorn

Wisdom calls from these halls

Now I so clearly see how I have murdered me and I cannot fake

Please heal me

So very wise in their own eyes

The world's great minds will one day find

That for life they studied, worked, and pined,

But in wisdom made by man alone,

That a high IQ with low regard

Will be dethroned and from heaven barred

Wisdom calls from these halls

I ask that You return me

The years I did ignore Thee

And with my burden bury

The weight of guilt I carry

And lead me to the well of life

Before my soul departs