The reek of bourbon vanilla lingering through the sappy tones
Of creased leaves and crooked horns, enveloping the royal grave
Embedded with stone, the coronated statue of vines and thorns
Twirling around the remaining cores

Rotten cells and dark floral gourd, an unstable mass crawling
Amongst the bare, rotten shores
The empty shells howl its name - the king
Of naught
Brought to death on the brink - in a whim

Clasping roots and grasping vines,
Luscious soot and dull amethyst,
The graveyard of which the warriors of Gaia
Patrolled in everlasting melancholy - the betrayal of the monarchy
In which they found pleasure in the guilt of misery
They atone for the death of the reign,
Raining in droplets of sulphur and rosebuds,
Meek of the pink of the roses, embroidering the newfound majesty

Alas, the journey of futility,
The thorns grasp its throat
The emperor has been coronated to cease once more.

I will dance like little fairy
spreading the love in poetic genre.
I swirl I twirl
and drift with pen,
with words that tickle senses.
When breeze is felt.
you’re touched by my fairy wings of love.
Your anointed to fly
inside your own dreams.
Do fly fly fly,
with sigh sigh sigh,
and feel high high high.
A new dawn is here
stand up tall to cheer,
inside a poetic song
that echoes with love

winds of change began to blow*
whirling in a different circulation
was the onset in alternate show
we did see its reverse oscillation

it would always be the same drift
in blew the current not familiar
inevitable this variable lilt's shift
instead of the ever so similar

the old guards twirl was replaced
timely this course of rotation
their admin's were all displaced
to permit substitute invocation

heaving with a breath of force
heralding another direction
how they did like this divorce
*haling the swing of inflection