Filthy room at the top, stinking
Cot in the middle, debauched
Incessantly by wine, women
And bawdy songs in-between
The purple tomes
Fall in Flames and Depraved
Come Spring, let him who remains
Unremorseful all the way
Down to the lower depths
Be the first to violate
The oh-so-sacrosanct
Maculate hypocrisy within.
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