You see me hang my spirits high My dirty linen's out to dry I've sought not freedom nor espy Placating reason in the rhyme A vindication of my crime
Thirteen years Inside your play To rise one day And find you dead The world had fled With much unsaid My last paternal kiss Thirteen years I missed
Do I only have conviction When my opinion lives in isolation? Is this portion of reality A frail and tangential foundation? Who mapped the course To
I had to face you again I had to taste you once more Alone I had to hit that wall With you as my mentor And watch my wretched flesh rot Inhaling the
I fear the path we walk is my decline That greater deeds, through fate, I shan't perform So long was spent defining how to shine 'Twas never learnt that
I decline April's fall High time to refine and vacate Still I'll miss such listless bliss This path was the last recourse Lucid hopes Chaos merchants
A mighty and unprecedented thought A vagrant memory from wilderness Where the civil and the servant are sought And tracing living death is frivolous