Cognition folds, far from equilibrium
The cursed drawl which heeds no name
Elusive, sane, tells the quiet whisper
A pox for all, laid down to pine
Hitherto pale ash is flung
Nary a warlord conquering thrones
Shall meet the daylight unbequest
Fallen kings, though not of repute
Beckon the safety of tattered shrouds
Veiled, to no avail for some
Drunk, consternation comes undone