Lance broken windmill shattered a bloody pool of innocence and Don Quixote cleaning his blade - his cleft tongue newly born of a snake's taste for blood Cervantés' head held upright by the only hand that remains true, for the other has just committed an act no author can leave unpunished - its dignity and honor as false as the face of romance is to its nature. There is now only murder as the pen, dragged too deep i' the page in passion destroys all beauty and substance therein a depreciated legacy left forever unmended as Cervantés surrenders his quill to oblivion and stumbles away.