Ladies and gentlemen, the first crown is now complete, turning back on itself.
Adorning this crown is a sonnet wreath, composed of the first lines of the fourteen sonnets comprising the crown:
I want a hero ‒
but then don't we all?
I see the hero deep
in all of us:
a small, swift flame
to shield against the fall
alone, into the cold
Can I be trusted? Will I heed the call?
Englishman tries not to make a fuss ‒
brings sweet moderation to the ball.
their backs I tut at the unjust.
will not take this bullshit any more ‒
best thing you can do is be a man,
in no ordinary war,
anyone who has a plan.
all must die, but then, who's keeping score?
try to live a little while I can.