You murdered a sincere friend, 

Eviscerated your champion, 

On a whim dictated by prevarication

And for knights in plastic armor, selfish little men. 

Those who see you only as a spoil, 

You slit love’s throat for social graces,

For a diamond-banded, silver coil, 

And the approval of false faces. 

You drove a stake for reputation. 

Murdered sincerity for golden laces,

Desperately seeking for imagined station. 

That is your legacy on this earth, 

Subservient fool to sordid freaks’ yen

And that is e’ermore your self-chosen worth, 

For by your own hand lies a dead friend.