Tytuł: Seraphic deviltry

• Wykonawca: Theatre Of Tragedy
• Wyświetleń: 301

Whether He the quaint savant's power doth hold I know not,
   Albeit aetat a thousand stars' birth He is -
   Quoth I that for reasons to me oblivious
   August of a granditude of servants is He held,
   And by plastic consonantry e'en more servants to the host added are -
   Pelf they are, dare I say!
   Maugre His diurnal seraphic deviltry
   I say that deviltry - 'tis forsooth deviltry! -
   Mind not this in scintillating shades clad is;
   To claim the glore is He suffer'd.
   "Grant me the fallings", quoth He, "the fatter the better!",
   And died they of starvation;
   They are not slaughtering their fatlings;
   They are slaughtering themselves.
   Sith I at time of yester the questions durst ask,
   And dare I say this burden weightful was,
   Wrack of His machine-like motion was I named,
   Tho' blind and fond the jesters rebuilt
   The machine alike - yet whetted a dight are its edges...