A Decadence Cycle (part 1 of 14)

[fr_defenestrato]

Aria
In one curt breath, my decadence has jelled
To rank despondency; to think that I—
Your stalwart lover—should be thus expelled,
With harshest hurry, canes me, drains me dry;
And yet you laugh, insouciant, so soon
After my ignominious retreat?
O fickle strumpet! Must I importune
To taste again your pleasures indiscreet?
Resolved am I to rest your faithful swain,
Head up, ears cocked, awaiting patiently
Your clarion call, your siren-sweet refrain!
Then every cock that crows shall crow for me:
Your beck and call I'll hasten hence to heed
And gladly to your every end accede.