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Soul of the Crown

On my road
to Damascus
and his, a Lazarus;
albeit
in his pyrrhic victory.
Like David and Goliath,
whose laugh, loose-limbed.

Loaded, thus
sure and right
in nods to states of mine_ leonine.
Hither and yon, gilded.

Sharing souls
as taking up the gaunlet
by the spirits
girded up and out;
whence upon this,
not alone wanting.
Thus
honeyed and silvery
in a protean politesse
in thrall to sway.
(smiles)

Thence
stood in,
in a gallant puissance
aglow in the front, alfresco
_ I opted the world, vie.
Hence
come tossing lots.

Kismet so fair,
the throne arising.
Thus
in the penultimate inch nigh,
nigh a potentate (smiles)
So,
if my throb thuds to fracture,
let
hence I'd romp home.

Gordon Bennett!
This Cinderella!
Put to rout my shade.
Thus heartsick,
lidded and tremulous,
in a singular waterloo
beyond compare.
_felled second to him
_piteous
and waxen wayfarer,
weary.
Betook me bruised,
bleeding in bonds;
Thus sullied.
Hence
my paeans and revel
misnamed
and my elan, starcrossed.

Could madding,
Demi-urge?
 How doth deus-ex-machina?
But of law, Gods.
That sentenced me inglorious
letting this prevalence
laden empty and low,
atop me.
Paying in no caesars to his'
nor doth fruitions fairly borne.
E'en puckish and negligent
on the Bough of the peoples' bower
_measureless balm of the manhood.
Like freighting Jacob
the flower,
in Esau's stead
ringing from the dumb
and through the sightless,
sees.

Let my denial ricochet just
and traded, my betrayal.
Wipe my screen
and my palms, dust.
Thence my wings
perfume in flying hue.

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