I harbor a wretched fondness for the tangible;

Poisons, plagues, preeminence made viable

So why then, does this complex crumble

As you abdicate your throne so humble

A paragon of virtue, anointed by the heavens

Scorn festers to a point of ravenous defense

The epitome of my benevolent desires

Dost tread amidst the same patronizing pyre.

Lavender pelted by Zephyr’s hallowed breath,

A tinge of poignant hue in this vast domain of death.