I’m standing where Eris wept,
With tears of blood and roars
“This thirst, oh, this thirst…..
My sanctity serves me not.
Little had I known before…
That your ubiquitous eyes deprecate discord.”
Your scimitar hangs lowly,
From the gateway of disbelief.
I said, gratified by salted cheeks,
“This is where good and evil meet.
Frightened, I am not.
But immensely conceited, you see.”
I realize why you are fetish, my liege.
