Turning and turning in these widening gyre
The falconer is lost in this blind falcon chase
This death trace, viciously curved
Holds but nerves for his set resolve
As he splatters his lying hearts to the grieved falcon race
The falconer, phoenix born, lives anew, reborn
Maintaining its unmended curve
as the falcons grievously answers.
The gong song bleats with blood
Her song smeared with naked hopes!
Exit of a born tribe
Meshed in her forged mire
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