Lo! in a month will I

go back to my abode,

to those after a near death

the castaway, the cut off ones,

they shall slay and slaughter (with me)

this king and his kingdom.


Ever the numskull counts the sand

you and not the water drops

as the fools would say thy name

in sleeveless arms to banish me.


And he steals by stealing (everyday)

using a ruler's crown

of feathers and pure gold, not a sound

around this town.


But watch me, no longer!

for I will draw on you now

in every way I can to can

to devour thy blank seated

self and soul and sacred age

thee and myself can then meet.