(The stagnant pool
Like a drowned coffin
Still as a deceased heart
Haunting the ghost of the noble crusader
Who recalls pellucid ice clutching the aching twigs
Never melting
Never a drop to disturb stagnation
Oh they say I’ll never win
You’ll always get beat
And like a drop of blood from the Devil’s tap
I’m dragging the crusader behind
Slips purposely down the black hole back to hell
Steps purposely down the black hole back to hell