Now we come to the end of our discontent
Half a year spent whittling, working
Scrimmaging tooth and nail against pestilence
And the hairless brood that bore it
A Summer of wiles - violent, short lived passions
Autumnal quickening - a cooled pace in the trot
That we have striven through unmentionable circumstance
Is forgotten as we shrug off weariness and ascend the throne
That we begged for nestling blankets
And instead were given nettles - rankling
Is an event we will excise from collective memory
As sorest are the bruises that bloom without patience
The easiest to bear -a badge branded with masterful strokes
Forget human love, divine grace
Forget burdened eyes, tangled lace
All is final, all is won
When scorn is set and fealty sworn
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