trophytrophy. of sloth and king .he reminded me of lonely nights spent singing in the city lights,sweet and naïve as i searched for an ounce, a single speck, of reprieve. now i stand at belphegor's door, sluggish and staring at the blackened shore,where i keep wasted years in the water stirring strongly against the shaky piers. although the sloth says i'm a horrible thing, i silently wish for him as my king. 102123