As this path was never meant to be trodden by man
These flowers have been nurtured for none's eyes

These pebbles have never been washed ashore 
These inner organs have never been exposed to light

Hyperion and Mimas orbit, for the pleasure of none 
The marmot whistles for none's ear, 
The acrobat performs in his invisible-suit, and mind's eye has never met anyone's glance, 
None has tore off the moss to see what crawls underneath,
Or lifted the veil, drained the pools, dissolved the bloodstains,
None has unriddled my archaic smile, 
Or turned [bad word] key in my feeble lock,
But someone might have been scratched by the claws,
and impaled on the spears,
and pierced by the thorns,
and the needles,
and the stings.