WG: Prelude To A Requiem[I. Adorned, Imperial (Son. XIII)]WG: Prelude To A Requiem
Arid, these days whisper mortality, For intolerance demands abhorrence, T'ward the Huntress, breeding banality, 'Tis that which lays splayed in the field, and hence, Eloquence, awash, endeavours to stain, Where, in the somnambulant fields, we stand, Resigned mortality whispers in vain, To perambulate, blind, seeking thy hand, In great halls of white, bereft of foresight, An old man stumbles 'neath faltering joy, For words fall so trite, illuminous night, 'Pon dumbstruck ears playing ever so coy, Quintessence, abandoned for v
AutumnalWith the blustering winds she mesmerised, And the boy atop his mountain enclave, Saw o'er the peaks came Autumn's disguise, 'Twas the icy-wet haze 'neath which he saved, A sullen hope of such a cooler brieze, To bless and caress these blooms' upward flight, Bring forth a heavy-eyed slumber with ease, And leave him bedazzled in earthen might, Who wrought the silver skies of amnesty? So it seemed to He whom this night provides, A final masque to unveil liberty, Drenched and entrenched didst his laughter subside, To a heart's content, no season's lament, For this was tAutumnal
WG: Libidinous Intrigue[I. To Don a Suit of White]WG: Libidinous Intrigue
"She walked as the flower, come to bloom, As scores in black didst fell the moon, A wretch'd eve; short two years a score, To don a suit of white, and lay, adored,"
[II. Wanton Goddess]
Subtly whispered, dreams of fancy, Fall 'pon ears so willingly attuned, To a sylph in song, eerily enchanting, The Pentagram 'pon my heart imbued, Who were these throngs adorned Imperial, Laying catafalque by Her side at night? Who sung intoned, Her forlorn Requial, 'Neath stained glass pillars out of sight? Pallor, gilded, berea
Of Wine and Tearful DeclineA droplet of wine smells of tearful decline, Of an Angel's last dance in bloom, As Her life and times leave fantasies contrived, Of a world to behold their celestial tomb, Such an eloquent hour 'neath a regiment power, 'Pon clock beating fast eating hard at our task,Of Wine and Tearful Decline
So intrepid the dark hangs on all We adore, O such litanies and regale, Of the Ancient's glance, My Rosemaries bow and bail, Passing here as We dance, As the light hums of chant filter all We abhor,
As a cold air blew we embraced, only in the hope of all effigy's eclipse at Our hands. A final bu
really glad you liked it!
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Thyme two right.
take care,
-Charles
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"A liberal is the guy who leaves the room when a fight starts."
- Big Bill Haywood
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