…Oh no, not a
Hero flowing and knowing
How potent red hot glowing

Every fiend easily sees

Hope showing its face
Don’t cope

It yells after the hit
Bit by bit lit by the moon

A silvery sheen like the face of the
Queen

Or the dope of the gods who mope and throb

Never quitting until death when they’ll be spitting and
Have fits while lighting nicotine sticks….