Mayfly traveller of the astronautics
Nothing less dour than your death
Separates the spider from his weft...
From his mercurial, acrobatics!
Webs a zillion, intravenous hang!
Plaintiff of your wings abated breath
So err you go between the flower
And her flowers leaf bough stem!
For judgement day is well in hand.
And but for those insect,
Penal colonist’s underground,
All will come to understand?
His heavenly holinesses hand.
