Wanton is the golden fleece of Realism lore
Nightly Priest and Venom's Beast seek such to procure
Endless not senseless! What quest to perform thou now taketh regardless, mon amour!

Breed-creed be my seed, bleed with greed
Self-serving is the order of thy paraphernalia
Capitalize on a hegemonic order geared for kings

Sprawl amuck to the scrolls of one whom inscribed the benefits of an Arcadia
The venomous one doth so heed Machiavelli's potpourri
Repartees to glorify Marquis, to impeach addressees of inanity
Coveting the purest vassals to resume tantalizing missions of a once omitted prime

Unshackle that ramshackle cue of benevolence
You paradoxical profaner of perception
He of venom shan't falter, oh Nightly Priest
He shall arraign ye, he shall break ye

Oh redeemer
Spawn of Hobbes
Apostolic is the wisdom of thy will
Relativity-borne were we the dawn we torneth from our mothers' wombs
Doth our waltz not mirror this systemic decorum
Which thy parsimony convolutes
First born of stigmata, and certainly the last to wear the Samaritan's diadem

Rapacious is thine ire, you parabolic thrall
Security so dire, anarchy thus sneers
Upon a mock-schlock fraudulent world
Morgenthau merely leers

A crown upon the brow of clowns
Cyanide sagas shan't avow
This dissertation of self-serving surety
Of pantheons to diffuse thee

Oh nightly priest
Spawn of Hobbes
Evangelistic is the order of thy will
A shattered carapace thus supplants thine enterprise of sanctimony
Accursed and benighted
Engulfed in shammed revelry
Solemn nights - everblight; judicator of a trite crusade of carrion crow

Oh redeemer
Spawn of Hobbes
Oh Nightly Priest
Spawn of Hobbes

Morrow's sorrow veiled within burrows of our Waltzian dream
Chasses break to the harmony of Eris - she salutes her artisans