End of day’s that's what I bequeath

To the entire world I vent my passion
Lord you curse in good fashion
Ceaseless wonders wet my eyelids
Joyous thoughts have swept into grids.

But still I vanquish each new day
If it were the first I squandered
Oh, love and war has wagered
And nothing does my soul yet purvey.

To deal with you O lord is to steal salt
Without cornmeal or meat, eat to exalt.
The nothing that grits in my mouth and teeth...
End of day’s that's what I bequeath.