Ornithopetra priamus

Thither is a lodging they reckon earth,
Whence humans art opportune and colors flare.
Flowers art yellow, trees green,
Butterflies feast upon the merry orchids.
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I dream of a parallel world, where I'm a warrior, an assassin...
I wipe out the dirt, the unworthy, the filth...
I'm the keeper of the universe, the equaliser.
Touch that animal, and you're dead...
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Lady ivy, how thine beauty has bend the world to its knees,
And how every creature singth in your praise, including the yellow bees.

Thine purple hair is the glory,
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Oh, mine sweet flower;
What bee shall taste thy bitter essence,
On thy leaf, what butterfly shall rest its wings.
Oh, little pink thing,
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Once I dreamed of a girl,
She was a leaf,
Lived among the trees.
She fed on the berries,
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At which hour I wast a dram wench, I did want to beest quaint.
Mine own moth'r hath said: ' daughter mine, look in thy moth'r's visage.'

Beauty in mine own visage is nay m're, but mine heart is f'rev'r joyous.
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Once upon a time I hadst a cousin, I knew him a play we both wast in.

About his features I might not but speak the truth,
He wast not tall, but with a fair skin.
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