The suns in trine had set, and fading day
Transmuted totally into the form
Of blackened skies, the darkened vault of gods
Who, outlined in the stars, would circle ‘round
Precessing poles of human colonies.
Goodfellow and good Fortiss both sauntered ’pon
The baked and crackèd blacktop of the streets
That in short order would be trounced upon
By people viler than the tongue can speak.
“This is Del Naja,” spake Goodfellow then,
“And soon we shall be taxèd to the full,
For crim’nal minds do make to operate
In all th’intents that they can come up with.
It is this night that lends these crooks a hand,
And seizes one of ours and, in its way,
Does tie th’extremity behind our backs."
When Fortiss heard these words, he quickly said,
“Goodfellow, I’m aware of all of this.
I signed up for this post deliberately,
And all outlaws my behind may kiss.”