“Exile mourning, the tears of the fallen
The music of her infamy,
The howling of a forlorn life,
Blown forth to snuff the fire wick.

The last vainglory in ashes,
The last of vain fortunes exhausted,
Now only the veins of shame remain.
By lonely candles’ vigil.

As pity falters and woes pile on,
to topple last lights spire,
The heart is gripped by darkness,
And friend or foe look quite the same.

The world the enemy,
now caught up,
the hesitant fist of a friend,
A spark of anger to recall,
That the fire still remain.”