Tuesday, January 12, 2021

It is now, master worker, when I to thee dove

 It is now, master worker, when I to thee dove

And argue with myself have wove a poem

Its purpose is reply and replication to thou

Whose articles and lys were as valley to home

Incendiary world was as though all innocence

And temporal the stanzas that implicit vogue

You are the captain of my soul and its coarse

Antiquity has no room for its own traipses ars

That this phrase has compunction and synergy

Brings doubt to the center of futurism wham

Its lightning is as doppelganger that yuo are them

How has this measure miracle beginning or end?

Tell me to see in the stars that beautitude psalm

Show me what it’s worth to be attitude’s balm

And how must these arbors known to be seeds

Been especially sauntering warblings?


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