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In vicked us out of the annoyed that covers me black as appeared from poll to poll

I think whatever ver ds maybe for my ine inconriable soul in a fairclutch of circumstance

I have not winissed nor quite aloud under the blungeinings of chance

Why head is bloody

But and bold beyond this place of reath and cheers

Looms by the hror of the shade and his menus of the ears

Fines and shell

Find me and afraid it matters not how stray the gate

How charged with punishments this grow

I aim a matter of my fate

I aim the captain of my soul