A swooning hawk did pluck my fate,
The only thing to dissipate
behind the moon, a diamond great.
My clock was tossed across the stars
shooting galaxies abound afar
to shrivel back from its long soar
to a crinkled pundle, spin nevermore
to catch the crimson flame of adore
as it once soared.
For what has trampled its fluid flight,
what tempted evil to the night
but the feet of agony for withering sight
of all that ever blazed any bright.
What cruel hands had from the fingers sprouted
to push the plush from twinkles now pouted
and put such pity in the fire shouted
But the villian was all to it amounted.
And what a sinister did clutch the moon,
what did crush the lovely womb
of that delightful fume to insert its gloom
and now what's brimming but deathly doom.
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