“Hurl’d headlong flaming from th’ethereal sky, dwelt in chains and penal fire, who durst defy th’Omnipotent arm’d. Nine times, his horrid crew lay vanquish’d rolling in th’fiery gulf, confound’d though immortal…The prestige of cathedral pillars tend to topple beneath the pity of our prayers for battle; robbing the sky of its glory; save thine own blood from thine own blade...O how I crumble beneath the turns of time...rack’d with steadfast malice beneath the bonds of a praetorian rise to power, leaving one further to fall."

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