In His Sentence

He the heir of ding a-ling Not to proclaim again The universe; below the belt of lonesome theme Nothing like Euripedes scale? Warriors! Abide no more! Let him hear! By anothers winter's tale! Let him speak! Verbalize his own ideals of the will Free of justice, back his wealth in need of triduum He's the man of knowledge, the half was taken Forbids not to take the road again! Don't kill! He may endure cynism beyond pain! Let him freed! He's not Echo who just love himself He, the scientist of the noble minds Of an old aphorism in 1513 Please! Do not my King, in Napoleon's name! His words are gait sparred Oh! Like him is just a continuation of pendulous fame He's not Gods, nor Greek, nor French His human by all faith and means Do not kill! His worth more than any of cunneus wedge More than you'll know my kin Do not let him die in his sentence...