He thought his eyes could see through any fraud;
Eyes like lupine violets, the black gems.
Set within a crystal, they gazed on God
With scorn, standing up in the River Fens.
Blusterous winds lifted bloodstained hair strands,
A dark amethyst, purple like his eyes
He stared at his naked feet buried in sand,
Then raised his sneering look to the cloudy skies.
Beneath him rippled a water pristine,
Within him a vengeance burning throughout,
And he fell as though he were in a dream;
Neither seen nor heard was his silent shout.
And thusly, by that which had set him free
Was also the reason he ceased to be.