Riding on a agile horse named Desire,
I flew on wishes, dreams like fire;
On a quest, of which I shall never tire-
Of which the consequences may well be dire.
Search not, nor enquire, Dear Sire!
For it’ll lead Youth, me to the pyre.
Think in ink; kinks in social Arcadia mire,
My soul thus redeems; not for parlay, nor hire.