Eager lips loose sink ships, recorder and a repeater
Under orders not to speak to you, you’re the media
You’re the snake in my familia
Haunting me, unwanted familiar
Sniffing after my potential millions.
They’re careful around me, like I’m a man with illness
Perhaps, wrongly, they term me some node of influence
Determining that I am an author of interesting incident
Without antecedent in prospect’s quantity and height
Highted kingly on my birth night, Titans ring me, urth my birthright
It didn’t turn out right, but I saw it written in flames upon the night
That every forward step would be met with venom, strife and trial
Only, defiled to steel, the rare zeal of my close betrayers dismays
I must take haste in taking heads with blades, like blazes, to dissuade them
I am some minister of mayhem in their sight
With the power to make happen
With powdered wig and gavel
Having eaten every wisdom apple that fell into my lap
I don’t cap but I don’t stop them trapping themselves
Not often that I can be accused of examining the mouth of a gift horse
Cannot decide whether I’m babbling or travelling as the muse bids
If there are lessons they are hidden, if there’s sweetness it’s bitter
Christ’s lips soaked in vinegar.
Alchemisland 
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