err the worth cast the die.
upon great majesty the spirit, didst fly.
unto the song the light descry.
and all darkness assuage to belie.
to darkened preening belied in death.
causing true soul to ressurect.
like the punching of the syrum, ambrosia I.e. heavens meth.
unto great anger and decision reflect.
Proving the the Person not so Odd.
to believe in God.
but rather pleasant in the state of sleeplessness.
to uphold great calm and to the darkness it self, spit upon.
And lo calling forth miracle simple.
the actual projecting of the dimple.
unto great magnitudes the transcendental.
unto the pompidice of furor, ecstatic joy.
Taming the mares of the night.
oh so smoothly, incidental.
perhaps the tides and ides a cross destiny, Continental.
©Pat Connor
P