Thou whose potent river spells
return the lost soul of the fray back to the mica
of this here stone and surely not beside sere
but encased in the protective linoleum
of your hard casing of words.
to die at twenty four is proof that you held god helms.
but encased in the protective linoleum
of your hard casing of words.
to die at twenty four is proof that you held god helms.
fearing a grapple
he recalled you into the etheric lustre
where you weave a dreamless sleep..
You king of the ether
you god, I glorify the mind that is yours
and thanks you for the rash the cleanse
for it is to you I run to.
scuttling from Endymion, Hyperion to Lamia
trailing, catching glimpses of a that translucent brocade
looks like whisk but are ether off your hoar
and you answer over again kike a rippling
promising depth from the brim
and in whose delve water speaketh
echos to deafness as
he recalled you into the etheric lustre
where you weave a dreamless sleep..
You king of the ether
you god, I glorify the mind that is yours
and thanks you for the rash the cleanse
for it is to you I run to.
scuttling from Endymion, Hyperion to Lamia
trailing, catching glimpses of a that translucent brocade
looks like whisk but are ether off your hoar
and you answer over again kike a rippling
promising depth from the brim
and in whose delve water speaketh
echos to deafness as
spirit fetch the quarts of eternity
Love you John Keats, Thank god?
Thank Keats
e5