Gates to Perdition

Such turbid crystals beguile distortion,

Vain flattery will spur us all.

As herds stagger in stringent coercion

We’re marching blindly to our fall.

Splintery wheels scar vestal moors,

That convulsing expectation

Of a bemoaning legion’s lures

Torn by hope and lamentation.

Scythian cavalry fades like dusk,

Your anabasis is a gate to perdition.

Beware of man’s ambition,

Blindness can spur us all.