Falling Action

Don't know how to write happy, Yeats, it's my serotonin pitfall. Show me: Byzantium, America! Survey says? [X][X][X].

I'm ship over oceans for Helen of Troy, borrowing your Midas frame of mind. Gonna commit to this metallurgy and golden-coat my chances with paradise. I'm giving my city, my walls to ruin, for the angel on my shoulder. The Hector part of me's laying square on Troy's foundation. She's my Byzantine, the dream of Elysium realized by an atheist.

I'm off the trireme ride and my guts are settling. Been aiming all my life this arrow, got my colors fletched and tipped the barb with black mamba. Learning to trust my sniper's drift of hand and this shot's murder.

Let's break the mantle with Chiang's Heaven's Light. Let's bury Troy and rise like Satan's corpse on Red Bull.