Posted by Faeo 'Lyre' Clive on
E'en this live-long life
sequestered,
dormant
like a pregnant pause,
clad in the stilled nights
off the day.
Neither could sway my vent
be rung through, I can;
better still,
my bower my balm.
Earth upon, bestrode I.
Essaying forth lives, acrobatic;
thereof the touches, thermal.
Whence
the nape of my crater
strained and wrung drained
dangling of a hardluck story;
yet,
upon not mercy-killing, swinging.
E'en in this vesture
ricocheted;
Ricocheted by the rays
and by the falls,
ricocheted.
Confusing me to the geysers.
My tongue
is outside the known world,
in relation to eternal.
Thus Demi-urge saw me.
Aye! In the true hood of states,
moulded to magma, my soul;
for a pride
and neither at a price.
Dwelling right in me
like babels speech-impaired.
Thus unbowed for all
nor can defuse
except Him Nature.
Yet up and still
but this serenity, coalfired
albeit
none of my shadows, unspeakable
hence one is not enough.
'tis that serene
or betake my lava,
thence eruptions.
Alas!
My neighbours whirl
when this Earth fragile,
upon which I stood, quake.
E'en the mouth of the sky, dumb
may roar.
For not composition
confused to braggadocio
for, to its alchemy
arrayed I.
More in my hood making,
and my silence gilded
my breath like
a lush verdure in an idyll vista.
Thus,
once a disabled
in a paean wrote
'my sense, vocal;
a houdini for crimes
and those aurally
e'en few percent I'd parried
all of His second coming.
Let! More denials even
hence the burden eased.
Thus
I'm felled not'
and he broke, ululating.
Ala I stood 'til extinct.