One feverishly feigned embrace And struck with hand, dagger graced Though the votive venial It precipitated the coup de grace
Ignorant stood captivated, Discourse evaporated As conspirators followed suit Silence serenaded the orchestrated, Symphony of treachery accentuated by sovereignty's strikes, resolute
Although he knew the fate awaited And pain he could not substitute The fight he would not forsake, and so suffered mute Until his soul was devastated by the visage venerated... The coda extricated, "Et tu, Brute?"
I've been trying make this work tell me what you think