Con’s Pyre C

The dawn begins to break
The birds call up their choir
A symbol of the snake
Adorned by every squire
The worms are on the take
The dwindling dew is dyer
In the sun they’ll bake
If they don’t find a buyer

The Lady of the Lake
Turns out to be a liar
Her siren calls forsake
The ones who would conspire
The people are awake
The smoke turns back to fire
Another day at stake
The ante dances higher