How can I follow,
A title so hallowed?
Pushed down-low
To the gravel.
Spirits
Play well
&
They dabble
In the heat-of-the-battle
Caged, yes
But still I will rattle
Scream and shout
Till the cattle
Stampede
Through the quill
I doeth bleed
Wanted not of this need
Twas the tree of the seed
That conformed me to greed
Wicked webs "they" will weave
With this thought
I now leave