Title: Caeser at Lucifer's Mission
Theme: The Aesthetic of Poets
A duet by : Prince Jayeola ( Golden Son)
                   :  Fuad Opeyemi (Gemini)

Solid heart like the mountain Everest
Circumflex to the Raven, Bring up the agon
in our midst, Like a dove,  we still remain
Challenge come about us
Still,  we overcome the hurdles like hills
               🙇Golden son 🙇

Kvell Cadres of scrivener,  
Harness styluses to tattoo on thin sheets
Poets,  goblet of endowment,
Pivoting throe to gladdened symphony
Soothing the ear of grief dwellers
                 🙇Gemini🙇

Clear out barrel of hate,  
Come apart,  enmity show less on our ballad
We do not bow down to race
Rather,  we propel with grace,
With the sound of humour our poem emit
                🙇Golden son 🙇

The pen,  like a magicians's wand
Exploited by calibers of Versified bards
With a tip so sharp,  running in ink
Cynosure of Prying eyes,  like a drop -
Of dew on spinach, poet are Aesthetic
                🙇Gemini🙇  

We are "they are who? ",  certainly!
Armed to the teeth with our pens
Thinking of ill- hearted hearts to heal
As we dance to the dead beat of our bleeding pen
No,  tell the man in the street to flow off our den
                🙇Golden son 🙇

Rhymester's way is Slim and Narrow,
Like a thoroughfare to Gehenna
For we dine with words, A minstrel
muser are hero,  resident of valhalla,
For we are the fighter,  that fight with pen
                🙇Gemini🙇

We stand in the racket of ranks
And fight to mind our p's and q's,
Hardly do we hit below the belt
To avoid disruption of poets that que
We stand tall and play the game
                  🙇Golden son 🙇

Poets are Aesthetic,  alluring
That travaux over the lava-like ways of poesy
We are all a product of our genre
Yet,  living in the facade of exultation
Delusional,  caeser at Lucifer's Mission
                   🙇Gemini🙇

©Pen Of A True Gemini™
The bleeding Hearted Pen
©Prince Jayeola™
The Golden son

All rights reserved

Spill the sass in your throat,
Sit in that infectious boat,
and swallow the fire like a Mod 90's Caeser.

Pull that rope of impossibilities,
and swing to the door of happiness,
like the enchanting fireworks in Brisbane.

Climb the ladder of odds,
and kiss the pole of awkwardness,
like Beyonce dropping jaws with her moves.

Misread, mistaken, misled by faith,
and drinking a glass full of honesty,
like you own your mistakes & fantasies.

Funny fulfilled fantasies,
and anonymous swallowed fears,
like a diamond over an opaque rock.

If Jesus would Seize the seasons
And Caeser would see the salad
A ballad would seek the peaces
And piece us the Secret Fountain.