Unknown firebrands suppose to him the ways
We could not be, except for public discourse
On Saint-Emilion Val de
Loire Grand Cru and shoreless marches
Through the requisites and objects of
Our nailing cross.
Open fashion lapsed the
Comprehending boulevard and schemes
Around the gaunt and farewell fleeting
Hour failing to be lost, imagine
That she would not go and
Would not harbor barrels
Further than the sideslip
Fortunate Eglise de
Poinchy.
For every Coteaux
D’Ancenis
There are a thousand million
Brusque defenders of the
Law, a ten part eight
Part worry stone to drag
Us to the depths. Even the sun
Must die some day they
Tell us, ringing the remarkable
Dearth of desperation
Underneath our fabled hammer
Toss, for now it must do
For what they could not
Recompense is that our eyes
Are wild with joy and
Even though the sun will
Die will suffer and shrink
Into a disparate auctioned
Dross our eyes will still
Be there to witness
Cold extinction and only
Then and therefore will it rise
Again anew.
No comments:
Post a Comment