In a dreary darkness I shall wait;
Barred by chains sodden with disgust.
These only bitter sweet to descry my fate;
In a dank and rank of blister rust.

Mine mind become a dried up heart;
Resting against a gray stone.
Covered in a horrid tart,
I hold all in a god-like throne.

For through this lens I will see
Those who falter in disdain.
And whilst I hide in lonely marquee,
Pry upon all with mundane refrain.

I shall inspect that marching two by two,
Of simple persons as ants upon a tree.
Gluttonous foraging always for vain stew,
Whilst marching now three by three.

Tilt mine head and reek of fell
From mine solitude of sanguine barb.
Rough, hoarse laughter shall fill this cell;
Become mine own wretched garb.

All the while keep mine sentry
Upon this dismaying terrene land of yore.
And as this such my only entry,
The world will forth give many more.

To watch I must, no judge exceed thyself,
Another kind of torment from mine own.
Until mine eyes dissolve oneself;
Plethora of horror that could drown a drone.

Here I wait in this dreary bland,
With chains to hindrance mine one demand,
To be taken away by a lurid hellion hand.
That may I no longer this trepidation misunderstand.