The days and nights of lust and presumption

We played it clean
In the midst of enemies.
And no hem unkept.
No stutter or comma cleft.
And they hemorrhage wit
At a rate until they see
There is no other place to go,
No other place to be so alone.

We drew our lines
In the form of pantomime.
And it caused a rift,
Miniscule but pertinent.
And they gave us gold.
By fortune, fame we're told
We are now
Close to world renowned
For doing none other than
What we're told.