With fervid vocility we have perused Through centuries of countless bethumbed volumes Finding little solace for our plight With absolute bodily quiescence We have pondered While earthenware pots are shattered and scattered And hanging plants mournfully wilt and waste away Encrusted ghouls once loved and cherished Fortress and shield razed in absolute defeat Pining away in curious conflagration But this I call to mind and therefore I have hope...