I’ve buried my all
Into half-cooked sonnets
No hard –lessons learned
No glory dispensed

As the weight of the world drifts
And burdens all the rest
With treachery, tragedy and want

I cannot be pried
From the slums I’ve forged

I will not be hoist
From the spires of praise

A regretful demise
Must snuff out the vengeful cries

From each trail
I have butchered
And maimed