With the swiftly swaying thought of becoming a helpmate
He contemplated the general apocalypse, yet coming closer to his own apocalypse.
He vanished and no longer can expatiate,
For egocentric is in nature his soul on lips.

Dear faithful fighter do betray it.
Lose thy utopian reason to save thy own reason.
Tender thy heart that's utterly gelid.
Save the silence in the season.

The azure above, distracted of the graceful tribute shots
Prevailed before and after the raucous trumpets and heavy boots.
For is it the first or the second or the mere another in dots
That in the Roll of Honour grew his roots -

For they forgotten and you forgot and so might I forget.