Forthwith we are assailed by a rather vague
And
serried sky’s cerulean attitude a blindly
Fleeting
point-of-view stumbling headlong
Toward
what impetuous grimace what grim
Overtaking
shade our very downfall vivifies?
What
precipitant victories did we lose today?
When
did the sun ever wear a shining crown?
We
may quit but we can’t give in to this unjust
Light
this unequable diffusion here under such
Hesitant
oak trees where littered shadows
Miserably fail to sway smashed particles of love
Such a disappointingly noncommittal glow but
Your
mind forever ignites more furiously more
Happily
cantering like Joan of Arc forthwith
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