With respectful insight, I hope you can divine my meaning,

Twisted enamored, I've oft seen your face
In the eyes of the authoritative,
But never have I understood your race
For all their fine words, so imitative
Of what you long for, but never can be,
A pulchritudinous marrionette
Can never touch, taste of life, never see
Praising hopelessness, the lack of regret,
Anathema begets benediction,
Benediction begets limitation,
Limitation, an inner confliction
Thus ruled, will lead to self-confrontation
Any conviction I'm sure you can see,
Is only sententious morality.

Penned by my hand on the 12th of Niuran, in the year 134 MA.