Always shit to stir up
Send violent wishes skyward
Then usher my eyeless destrier away from the spiteful saltbite tide
No stirrups, breast Burren bare and hairless still
The ephebe who kills, the beech without leaves,
In hopes that his violent, hope-raping deeds
Will see his legacy exceed
The briefness of his zeal’s chiefdom.
Alchemisland 
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