I Shall Also Take You Forth And

It Took The Whole Of Creation To Produce My Foot, My Each Feather: Now I Hold Creation In My Foot. Or Fly Up, And Revolve It All Slowly - I Kill Where I Please Because It Is All Mine. There Is No Sophistry In My Body: My Manners Are Tearing Off Heads - The Allotment Of Death.

What Happened Casually Remains -

I Sit In The Top Of The Wood, My Eyes Closed. Inaction, No Falsifying Dream Between My Hooked Head And Hooked Feet: Or In Sleep Rehearse Perfect Kills And Eat.

You Are Who You Choose To Be.

Nobody Knew The Iron Man Had Fallen. Night Passed.