What could hinder this haste 

Calm strewn the isle of this tattered grain 

In all this muzzled distaste 

I brush the vial hoping to misplace 

Cover me with soil and tread 

Drape me with flames this frock of disdain 

Stop this sunken ravine pull out the slate 

From under me 

This kingdom in the quilt of demand 

Forces the conquer of the plan