A cleft, which earmarks the Devil’s tongue That what exposes you as such, are among The gods, a silent taper, so button your lip, Erstwhile, clashing is almighty as you clip. How negative, lame excuse is pale contrast, Of the shadow in its corner you Hephaestus A phantom, who by now would ignite flow, In a flash, would greet the forge, like a hero. I’ll have you know, how meekly each ring, Will orb a passion to expressing something; The eye, the power of every god to forecast, Immersing strength, to empower and outlast. Each quirk is by every effort to fool your foe For example, the separating of oil and water, Lighter underneath is not so negative though Confidence heavier for their spirit will falter. Clutching of the nettle deems to be harmless, So flip the sword in favour for my kindness.