Doth Heaven speak? Or can I be dreaming wither I came?
Where such merry present, thence I’ve become aware and my breath hails short
Such a small token bequeathed mine eyes and vied with my priority mission
Of this truth hence commands me, born this new vision
Quails the mighty serpent frightened by thy hind lord’s gleam.
A breath of fire sated wreathed in venom
Startled his brutal chaos mean
Neither spent nor wasted toward our Good
Vengeful angels gleaned upon our Nemesis
Reproachful forces leapt
Baring donned withering fang
A jaded proposal feared on swollen light
As I have glided to the one who moves me
Hereto to I inspire yours, a valuable conviction
