Bliss and sweet escape His hallowed lips but nothing Changes what I hate.
I never saw it Coming out of the sunlight Glorious mighty flight.
He never said much My hands were all that he touched Beneath the black muck.
Despondently yours Pen, paper, ink, they write true The demon in you.
Fleur, fleur, joie de vivre The clock strikes one, two, three, dreams Kingdoms fall appeased.
There is a dark thing That leads me to fear our cries My own wrath, it dies.