Your triumph rusts
devoid for novel, yet let it stand
as precious to slight so it might.
meter without measure, requisite tempering
red clay, said soil begets one palpable truth
carnal exchange comes then forgoes that circumstance of pomp;
A desparate thirst never quench his eye.
How fared those ilk, when twilight gave rise?
Myth be not creed: all but so urged.
Beware, and befitting as blind the notion
Believe it; deceive it: ramble on home.

♬ shit! I forgot to buy numbers, for all the damn phones! ♫