Dieu Sans Pitie

And through the darkness still I see him [unclear: leer],
A God with lips that twitching, taint and sneer;
With glowing eyes I see him gazing don't.
As mirthless [unclear: laughter] playing lifts his [unclear: town].

The earth his plaything is, and we his [unclear: pawns;]
He earless mores and mutes, he pity scorns;
Then like a child, her living son of play.
For sport doth fling us far and crush and slay.

And seated on his throne be then doth gaze.
Upon a propel last within his [unclear: maze;]
And then a mirthless laughter shakes his frame.
As branding down he starts [unclear: anew] the game.

—J.

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