Muzzy my methods appear.
 Ergo fear. I understand.
Thanatos via equivoque
 is how you see them, yes?
But death and life are kindreds,
 playing together, unlike chess.
Regardless, pawns are precious;
 so in Hedon I eclipse.

Inamorate I am
 of this eldritch gramarye.
For comfort is brought to the maenad,
 and to the dryasdust.. life!
"Pecadillos de los caballeros!"
 Their Magical Staff is holy.
"Strong forces, it's merely a stick!"
  But I digress.. comity.. comity.

Este dia this paseo I walk,
 not to reckon, but reconcile.
With lotoseaters I sail,
 yet in steerage.. malnourished.. rot.

Yet...

When the heart of the vessel is opened
with the touch of utopia felt,
Dann bin ich satt.
Dann bin ich Weg.

By the way,
 who makes hell so hot?

Doppelganger of Dionysus,
 a gelid sister: Lucullan Faire.
She's Venus cursing Eros,
 with gold braids in her hair.
Dionysus cannot see through her,
 and she's destined Apollo's heir.
And here sits fatuous picaro,
 as of yet he doesn't care.

Kassandra scorns Apollo in Pieria
and dances with the muse of Panglossia.
She believes the Faire
 will bring all to concord.
To pan picaro all is maya,
 and right now he's getting bored.

So, off we go to the forest,
 pans and pixies evanesce!
Whether a balk or obviation,
 we're branded slacker,
laid to rest.