The shadows that envelopes this eyes
Are like the augur of a thunderstorm.
Signs of passion and vehemence pries,
Through my sternly loins and sternum.
The deluge of my verbal flow,
Raised my bottled ego,greatly tensed.
Dampening the grip of apropos,
And fleeting thru mind's bosky forest.
Through the patched lawn within my sanctum,
Where moistured path of wishes form;
I sojourn often with my foot bare,
Prancing both the dry and wet.
I matter despite my status.
Together we hail to share a pacific course.
I have a mind as well as you,
but what i must believe,i choose.
In frisky zest and vigour,
I cavort between pains and pleasure.
Yet my sober soul fitly agrees
To pithy devise and probity.
Pleasant words that lay unleashed,borne-
And tamed at the inate of my tongue,
And the fire which in my bones burn;
Has its roots from divine source.
I stand aloof to take account,
Of why my spirit know not doldrums.
Amist the frowsy task i found,
I was formed and made of honour.
Buried in my bones,sinews and belly,
Is the manner of a kingdom lord.
And at the perlieus of my tent,
Are ornaments of royal purpot.
