We know not of that Woman,
though ‘tis known that for years
she has begged for death.

what marred such a creature?
unsought furtherance,
everlasting atrocity,

or a centaur,
agog martyrs and honor,

‘tis certain that,
once the castles are built,
their emperors,

though drunk on ***,
and branded by adulation,
shall ascend.

but does fame bespeak
an eternity of pandemonium?
Perchance.