unusually explicit
How could they know her realm for real is in
shattered ruins, the pain of destruction and misery
enslaved, and yet the bird messengers avouch disaster,
the open gate like the mouth of terror, must it be as
broken in hunger, her city in hold of rebels, populace
at verge of frank starvation. Bitter honey grips the
throat, say what you like to weigh our own Brit supply,
of weapons to control of this lasting punishment, ten
mil a few steps away from death by hunger, many
babes and childers. All this burns beyond reach, she
cannot bear even to flinch, to apprise her loyal boys,
open their eyes what is done in our name, arms and
the man suborned. The grasses sway, cress in the
stream, birds in commune flight, subsidence in
transfer of this fault to sing, song in over fault. Arabia
Infelix, their enemies are our friends, does this rankle
yes in theory but this open gate speaks like a mouthful,
wordless and free beyond instant care, worn down
scarce to fare well patrons of unknown hurt.