For the person who could not become aurora-
for iron pikes blocked the road to the vision
for whole continents stood there upturned
barricading what belonged to another
For the person whose dream was farfetched-
for the citadel rose up sky high
for Jericho's horns wouldn't have an effect
on such walls by a spell laid accursed
For the fool who could not but succumb-
for vast wastelands his eyes had bedazzled
for magistral concoctions in dark bowels brewed
so alluring a taste had upon him
sympathy-
empathy-
and pity-









