The die is cast
A fugue fell simple
And the horns blew
These petals of spring
Exist in permanence
To be so placid
While the world burns
To roll over in submission
To be an iceberg
You will bend to this heat
Though it fates better than death
I suppose
The lies i chose to believe
Hold greater meanings
Than the truths of dieties
They told me
To do unto others
As they would do unto you
Like an archaic license to kill
And the horns blew
I fell apart to a fugue
And tossed my die in the tiber
Alea iacta est