The hooves graced the stage
And we artlessly digress
Like a bed of scorpions
Beneath turned stones
Unhinged and entranced
By the dance of flesh and bones.
Stings tremble with anticipation
Cowardly poised to poison
Perfecting pretense for defense
All scrambling for impunity
Among misbegotten virtues
And self-serving fidelities.
The vassals to a bloodborne crown
Trade nations for silken sheets
Hoping that the toast of upheaval
Could fill the hungry beast
But the glass refills another round
For a charade of witless relief.