A unicorn slain by any other name still brings a curse. When the letter of the law is to forbid emotion, society crumbles in its wake. “No justice!” screams the pot, “a curse for a curse!” exclaims the kettle. The fox is hidden in wolves clothing, thrown to the crowd. When life means death and death awards acquittal, to who is the recoiling labrys handed? Language comes to an end. Love dies again. An evolving curse remains a friend. And the unicorn slain remains unchanged.