how my heart wish'd to/thu.mp/
along with those that sat wispily[wispy as the barren trees that thin out toward the unforgiving east; shan't i venture there, rest my weary soul]
beneath dusty lofts of liquid gold
[it shone brighter than the stars above, the gold did, and it blind'd me quite so]and compress'd waves of bitter contempt.
[their lives were good, the lives of the wealthy: they died young and wild, lungs choking and burning on year-old ale and *** and their lovers laying desolately at their selfish sides. and yet, they hold the right to say they lived, to say they took life by the throat and tugged.]