After long this spirit lags, flagged for this weather jousting with its stately dust.
I am heaved hence this mighty stand, hoisted by my fellows weary hand.
I come and stake the rain my plunder, and climb no taller hill than I’ve defined my privledge. As none are wont to hinder me, the swell in my heart is thrust by and by these challenges.
Upon my common reflection this cadence holds an abhorent flood of failure.
Where grace has cost there honesty fled, and wither my mouth led misfortune.
Thus I’ve flirted this malice spoken, seemingly foretold my ingorance.
Though I am ever willful now I wield.
Gracious upon delivery and fortune unto me.
