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All scourges passed

The world shrinks

Saddened by eloquence pure

Taketh thy verse

We shall suffer acutely

O' great lake of tears

A solemn mass sung

From olden catacombs

Pale men lie wreathed

...In gloom

Frolicking wings of monarch,

Doth crumble and morning dew shall

Too oft I weep

For our discord begotten

As every last eye will close.

A shoreline haven succumbed,

to mirage inevitable

Embrace within our weakend arms

Shan't we view our fallen oaks

Timid fawns

Shed sullen tears

I, a worn man

Forced to submit

Stumble

Manifest grief

Therefore i withdraw my pen in nocturnal repose