Diaries Of An Immigrant Soul, Pt.21: In a full moon precision of rhyme

All within the dyed robes of rhyme, 

and subtle dispatches of sinful woe... 

enchanted in wisdom, a pilgrim's trot, 

waging and waling at the spot. 

Fringing at the hands that drew his fate, 

ever so lonesome in his wait. 

With scattered fears roaming earth, 

in search of what truly; is dear and dirth.

there is much freedom, need I say, in passing time...

in the careless precision and pattern, of floating chime!

Dearest dreams, do float away,

and water my sight, with grief today!

While sweetest passions, of Ides a-due,

devise in garnishing thoughts of two!

Later my hearts, when candles do,

shalt be guidance to all, when i am through!

and when the waters seize further fall,

all our virtues when then, shall stall...

lest, longer the linger, to prolong this crime...

We will go ol' chap, in silent mime...

Beware the widow that mocks the night,

in pitch perfect light, sting she might!

for when the golden braids,

spike at God's feet,

away, shalt thy sing the nightmares,

and today we surely meet!

By;

The Black Iris, Of The Luminous Imperious