Down going thy troubled soul
Away from the caprice of the world
Alone on the bone of some thought foe
Alone and choked by the strip of my own mould
Who shall listen to the wailing of cries
Who shall remake the shattered heart
When the pixies grow and flies
Who shall come give me a pat

Soul like a rumbling thunder
Dissembled dreams of a dead tree
Direction like a word being dealt with in blunder
Like a coaxed vulture in a spree

Freaked heart, as it would be
Catapults the heart to the ambiance
Of immortality, perchance that's the fee
The fee of disengaging from my menance
Souls willing, mining in the vineyard
Not of sorrows in thy joy founder
But on the wits and caprice of a bard
Consolace on thy pen makes a voracious panther

Relinquished from the souls prison
Away from my self captive
through myself made of a reason
Stealthily creeps up the ambiance of love like a thief