Shanzophrenia.

You’re stringed in the velour of vanity

Dark and deceit has become your tendency,

With pride and zeal you grew foolhardy,

Your shield and spear a mark of mockery...

Preached belief of a seldom wind was not all the patience

You brewed in your wine colored strings.

It became Hasty; to think for your velour to seek

Augustus why the betray when you fought it too long in your guts,

Even knowing you were not the best merit man.

Crippled innocence; a part to heavy, Lift!

Crack those bones open, face the sky.

Crippled Augustus a dying man has compensated your betrayal

As you learned the heap of coins you carried was much more a burden.

Taunt! And deny.

Fight the last battle; justify...

Beneath the heap men, your new stringed face will hide.

In that heap of men, you will be seen no more and no less the Augustus,

Who came back, marking his own mockery?

For your blood will spill with men you arrived.

Poor Augustus; a fair trade in the god's eyes.