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.