stamp upon my forehead
tether to my hip
christened, this way forever
tossed aside the ship

a feather, duly noted
is much too soft a spell
when all the work is over-
a change, now just begun

amidst the lawless disarray,
amity, faith, endure good will-
the orders ever impend here
eternally, scarce of trill

there upon the seeded land,
where white red-roses roam
exacerbate, the further-
trek the path, quietly, home