“Doth pride command the will to drown itself?”
Asks a proud Happy Tears, looking under.
Harshly, The Devil says, “Why so? The graph
Shows figures that abide.”, The wrong plunder.
A lousy excuse for a coffee sits
In their palms’ depths, safely nestled far away.
The scene emits itself with modern tricks;
Foreign objects around closed in, the sway
Of the world’s fake, holy, “smartest” beings’
“Wisdom”. Correct as any lad that lived.
‘Round gathered the dust in favor of kings,
As doth the coming of darkness; a gift
From the ashes, making nothing! A sad
Reflex of the habit. No talk was had.