How can the passage of time lend its ear to the wonton desires
Further to the earnest soldier standing erect in check
Should the immovable objects be challenged to a dual?
Pierced like a bird-song, early in the morrow
Camp not, restless soldier
Push forth while thy still has the power
Four long nights I’ve waited by this step
Imagining every passing breath to come at last
Nay, just the cruel cruel glow of thou moon
Shines down as if mine own third eye
Camp not, restless soldier
Push forth wile thy still has the power
Enslaved by the cruel witch of this story
Set in stone; too young to hurt, much too old to die so tragic
Living in fear has increased thou arc
Set deep inside thy soul of consciousnesses cloud
