Wait. Rival Artist. Now trample this Bard
By Stark Millions impossible are none
To tame my Robin's appetite too hard
Which qualifies to Tradition by some
Yes. You Win. So by their Government's scope
Tickle these Factions for Point-Views divide
With Some for Oft; Yet with Others for Hope
And heal their Stumbling Prayers coincide
It seems your Silence wide for Interpret
Be it Vine or Sickle you beg to offer
Or Praise in Disguise; Beguile my Tourniquet
Pollute the Right Hand then infect another.
If you want him. Take him. My Charity be
To stall the Viking and the Saint bereave.