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To guffaw at the forthright claim
Of an Anarch insurrection
Rather we privy the inhuman lore
Of elusion
Glean that sapphire waltz
My darkling one;
Count how many strikes
We can turn our back upon
If beauties must perish
In a world
Where nothing makes sense
And we soar but to –
the pace of declining hopes
Then, darkling one;
Gainsay the abattoir parle
Split the hourglass
Pledge nay but one troth
That –
When the hour comes
Where there is nothing left to lose
Fight
And fight
And fight!
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