I'll Be Damned For Never A King's

For The Poor Wren (the Most Diminutive Of Birds) Will Fight, Her Young Ones In Her Nest, Against The Owl.

In Me Thou See'st The Twilight Of Such Day As After Sunset Fadeth In The West, Which By And By Black Night Doth Take Away Death's Second Self, That Seals Up All In Rest. -sonnet 73

The Clock Upbraids Me With The Waste Of Time.

Sycorax Has Grown Into A Hoop

Strikes Deeper, Grows With More Pernicious Root.