[b]The Rot[/b] Perched on a throne of compost and stone Passing judgment for the good of all A tarnished crown fused to the bone Oblivious; it begins to fall. Indignation joining the fray Mulling a false sense of remorse The very essence fleeting away, Traveling down a trodden course. A self-righteous refusal to subside Snatched under a sheet of fright, Innocence lost in stride Muffled stirs, silenced by the blight. With resolve absolute at the end of the day, Stranded alone in a field of decay.