Where goest thou my sullied Grecian Princes?
Where takest thee now, thy perfect soul?
Dost thou ken the sharpened knives are drawn to blood thee
To slice thy tomorrows, rent un-whole.
Dost thou know thy tangled gambles are undone now
The visigoths, then angered, are now wild.
Preparing to dismember thee completely,
Preparing to dessicate thee now my child.
Who will sing thy piteous song of supplication?
Who will bid to share thy brimming cup of blame?
Whence are they who once proffered compensation?
….Vanished one and all… in crimson puffs of flame.
Hollow now the howls of lost redemption,
Empty now expressions of regret,
Gone are all the notes of promissory
Blown about the halls in winds of cold forget.*

M.
6 July