Oppressed by my porcelain wraiths
I am an arrow to the heart of Hades
Ne‘er dismayed from a howling deep
The unfettered I, a derelict to leap
Whist, you images! Lines of fluster and bale
Come, dust my wings, my feathers nailed
Far too much ache I am compelled to bear
I, the grievous one, on a long way to fare
My bonds pertain just to this earth
To the sick fold of it’s peccant herd
Like a saint I preach the spirit, the will
To leave you lone behind my private kill
I’ve always heard to beard the real
With blows to suffer and blows to deal
Now, my wings are rived to make me fade
A freed frame resolved to dissipate
Here I am, just break me down my luck
Be my guide through the reigns of muck
I’ve always heard to beard the foe
Aghast now, in my personal death row
