Our hero of the earnest era of Romance,
Doth dream, dwell and dance in divine dalliance,
Commiting Heart to solidarity and alliance,
With the revolutionary atmosphere of France,
Optimism for change doth have him in trance,
A liftime took to perfect philosophic stance,
Meandering aimlessly cross Earth like child,
To apprehend the nature of the freebirds, the wild,
Rancorous, with passion riled,
Of Nature's Beauty most beguiled.

Counting the confederacy of poets as friends,
Towards brighter day they weave and wend,
Humankind's sublime destiny they dare not forfend,
So to revolution they duly lend,
Their timeless and rumbunctious pens,
To show the world through inspiring lens,
They're enamoured of its darkling dens,
Where inspiration from the ether sends,
Visions suffice to be immortalised,
In the poet's pithy cry.

Poet evokes the stirring herd,
Rebelling against tyrant's rule absurd,
Shaking off oppressive law,
Which the righteous mind does abhor,
Revolution befits a troubador,
Enamoured of freedom's wild old tour,
Transcribing her beauty in to lore,
Wsidom older than ancient war,
Wisdom that's the friends of sages,
Wisdom felt, not learned from pages.

Paying heed to impulse, feeling,
The troubador is a devotee of passion kneeling,
Feeling Love through their heart freewheeling,
A feeling which is most appealing,
With their verse they want to spread,
Their passion like a golden spindling thread,
Going soft with gentle treads,
Planting flowers in human heads,
Daisies with Love's light imbued,
Converting sunshine in to useful food.

Emigrating like the flower of the Jacaranda,
The fledgling Shelley lives to bloom and meander,
Defying the tyranny of propaganda,
That doth against the soul deceive and slander,
So towards a bright Eden he takes a gander,
Towards iridescent, bright, immortal hour
Where the mannacles of the mind,
Are crushed by Love, activity refined,
The spread of care duly kills,
The hate bore grim from tyrant's thrills.

The world becomes unite again, and not in the imperial way,
But in the way all souls are friends, and borders die and go away,
The world is a bright, clean canvas,
Ready to take a splash of art,
Coloured bright with the idea of heaven,
Imagined from hungry human hearts,
Lo, the death of illusions fake,
Like wealth, through which the devil spake,
Arise, ye children from your mistake,
Off your ******* like feathers shake.

Peace grows strength in every line,
In which a future free doth shine,
The path of righteousness aligned,
To hitherto deceived and corrupted minds,
In a dream of heaven they duly find,
A fate to which they want to be intertwined,
That of a human herd that wakes,
To be freed and liberated from its mistakes,
To die standing than live on their knees,
To take war to tyrants dictums and decrees.