Nico

The snow on your eyelids that curtsy with age
Is freezing the stares on tyranny's wings.
The bitter is hard and the warmth of your skin
Is diseased with familiar caresses.
Withdrawing from splendor and royal decay
Among all the triumphs and jaded awards
The angry and blazing circus of sun
Blasphemes as the crown prince arises.
You cannot beget all the sins that you owe
To the people of paradise magic
Pretend to answer passion and form
With foreign rationalizations.