Targetted for dogged demonstration,

To be enveloped in cast iron lamentation

Why among damnation’s furious gaze,

Has the captain of the surly quarter 

Surely felt the portly craze?

Gazing quick and wanting harder,

Thoughts whirl of escapism hidden

In the maze of the taunted forgotten,

Where objects that seem so very still

Still hold the souls of many men,

Away from the force of their kill.