Where the Boycott Danced

Levy me; You Son to whom dictate thees' tone; two-toned, only black; You crude zest of their paradigm. Shade me thence; my satire learn't away, my work induced upon lonesome dogma blocks, led astray. Lead thus; my hopeful temptation and wrap no propounding claws, but ones that yet intoxicate such impervious light, plunders softly our reaps of years; So sweetens thy covetous whine.

Smoulder me You tears by Arbiters grin. Deride my Death in books of will Without will; sick floundering, dwindled endeavour. prescribe them by Nature repulsive edifice of dead stars - and Preach this blame-broken verse; uniformed by all mediocre green, To torment those who know thought knows them best—

Oh how I Scream: Zeal-writhing worm You!

Hold my weary head to them; Scourge my eyelids back by These.

And See: No hindrance now for the Pulse that need not claim Birth: No solemn fears of slacken tones and Lost, vibrant quakes; Wave after Wave of refrain preaching Hearts: Mindless Red tie Hook of Question on Cross; In Post fist of raging Rebuke; Here, where only shudders of grey silk roam Flat graves.

None of whom desire: None given ours.