What could be wrong with this, the world I see?
Starlings clench and separate naturally,
Obeying clustered physics beautifully –
Taking bearings from their kind as they fly.
There the rabbit runs down its warrenned grounds,
And there cotton white is missed by the hound.
Ah, there is the ruin of beauty found:
A want to destroy, to rule, and confound.
It is from us death originates;
From Adam’s first bite of the fruit he ate.
This brought upon – from the Triumvirate –
The world deservèd justice for our state.