The red deserts of holy mercenaries
Held the swiftly fading floods of indecency
The idle eyes of anticipated truancy
Gave acceptance to her false Virgin Marys

The calmly gathered oceans of sand
Offered forth a dune for the moons to rest
Humble only to the gods once blest
Whose executions served as least grand

Yet the Chimera Child staggered still
Hibernation stalling the invasion of realism
The suffering that conjured her idealism
Was nothing more than this visionary's thrill