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Faeo 'Lyre' Clive

Glory' fount

 Split-second, thence those tempest veilled
shroud 'til cease recall betoken hours ailled
thatwith then, considered flairs as failed

Thus, you shed in toils through incubation
that alone, saw tomorrow your revelation
comburst, glowing epic fro equal destination

Uncertainly, shudders pessimists' blame
that to, toped sweats to riches fro fame
albeit, focusing further draw, beyond aim

Sightless to 'you are hitherto you are not'
breathing 'til you last beneathe fought
neither beneath toss, glow towards worth

To success story, scud you neither at ease
vague beyond them, e'en no mile amiss
sprung ala sown fro controversial genesis

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His' Africa

Live your rooms and betake to this hour, Africa!
Forsake, if star-crossed tracks; thy ailling canker.
Bathe your visage and comport to your puissance.
Alas! You were those, past. So, bare thy luminescense.

Through that of whom you are, enfeeble thy languor.
Tow your chicks along, whom hatched to your
savour.
Not ever again, shake through foresaken nods;
that to, flowered your forebears upon their seconds.

Either blithe or woeful, betake your brow to flaw.
Take your bath, those are your toils and labour.
With ménage in chorus, throng through your prove
and stand your biles. Die not even, upon this move.

Neither your semi-sweats they aids, even alone mould
to your freshest breath withering sotto-voce untold.
Array through the shadows athwart their rumours
that you are, hither to not, could only your celestial toss.

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Soul of the Crown

On my road
to Damascus
and his, a Lazarus;
albeit
in his pyrrhic victory.
Like David and Goliath,
whose laugh, loose-limbed.

Loaded, thus
sure and right
in nods to states of mine_ leonine.
Hither and yon, gilded.

Sharing souls
as taking up the gaunlet
by the spirits
girded up and out;
whence upon this,
not alone wanting.
Thus

[...] Read more

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