Thou have neither served the God
Nor the devil proper,
Know not the tune of heart,
Nor the kingdom of mirth.
Queen of inane trumpet,
Quivering on blowing gale
With palpating weak petals
As thou the tulip might
Hands open with falling hairs,
Mermaid old full of plight,
Scavenging the youth more
Upon the sinking horizon.