The Colour of Mockery

Furnished from the beginning with superlative demeanor, You sway no haughty elbows, And murder all colours of mockery, Refrain from staring down the bridge of your nose, As well as the egocentric adults That bear the sharpness of a minotaur horn. Your own sanctuary Is crafted from knife fissures and bullet nests, The nightmare of cathedrals; Though existence must be slain In order to fashion birth, yet existence is never slain for applause