oh sweet agile thing upon my fragile wing,
Sing songs about summer while loathing what march might bring.

Where are my answers? and why leave me desire?
Or the cold numb of the sun stretching shadows,
Lifting moonbeams higher.
Chairs of drudgery sound off suddenly null,

Watching for wandering idiots to answer the call
of duty, dually binding mind and soul to the goals of the empty,
Coffers of fathers giving life to end life,

Take up the knife for freedom's diamond ring,
Gunpowder through hell to see what angels may bring,

And as rings the gunshot, so brings your son's hot hubris
draining down the rubble streets
Man scared to a boy slouching,
wishing for each counted heart beat.