sea
death
contour
enslaved
unwittingly
thrice
astride
The sea of the enslaved
Riding astride the march of progress
Unwittingly striding to oppress
Mistaking lusts for freedom
Thus the modern kingdom of decay
Pray tell what is this new depression?
A kind of undeath most unkind
Our old follies and the supposed medicine
The latest toys to quench our thirst
To be the first, best of the whole
To be the worst and infamy untold
For five minutes of fame
And countless desires
Some noble and most but reckless
When death rides the land in waves returning
Once in the murders rising
Twice through the circle of lies
And thrice by the sinking cities
Still many times more beyond endure
As the contours of the lands move
And the mirror's reproof is met with fear
Aloof the soul, untouched, unmoved