There appeared a high and mighty kingdom
Had a tiny brittle door from the farthest corner,
O great tragedy, you who guards it did lock it up yet the door was still brittle
Do you not know that it costs with your gut?
Twist it will in a knot,
But won’t you save yourself at least,
Instead of standing still in the battlefield?
And so the chains that wrapped around your neck before
Seemed to have slipped your mind even after you swore,
And now as you handle the key of the opened ajar door
While gazing back at the orange kitten across the door
How are you sure it’s safe for keeping when the barks of the wood is sore?
