In the Face of It.

In the face of it
One bends to the absurd

The schism of all that breathes
In realms so fractured they
Look nose-down at each ones' sphere of glory
~ Or discontent.

Iphigenia herself cant save our day.

We head in blind pursuit
Yet warm extravagance for worldly stage

Unheralded the joyful fruit we bare
Here in the space now given
A poesy blooms from goodly will
A definition recognised
in spirit alone for sense
Outridden bids the Angel of Intelligence
To fall before the glanc-ed eye

Un wary now it glows with wise
And succulent beam
A Ray lit star in a darknight sky.
-Zete Purongge

In the Face of It.

Stage at each ones' sphere of glory

One bends to the absurd, In the face of the blind.

Pursuit of all that breathes cant save our day.

The joyful fruit we bare yet warm extravagance for worldly
~ Or discontent.

To fall before the glanc-ed eye,
Iphigenia herself Look nose-down, The schism.

In realms so fractured they A poesy blooms.

From goodly will A definition recognized
in spirit alone for sense.

We head in A Ray lit star in a dark night sky.

Yand succulent beam bids the Angel of Intelligence.

Unheralded Out ridden bids space now given
Here in the space now given.

Out ridden the Angel of Intelligence
Here in the Unwary.
Now it glows with wise........

Unheralded the glanc-ed eye
To fall before the joyful fruit we bare
A definition recognized.

Very kool from goodly will
ziggy stardustesque..
A poesy blooms in spirit alone for sense.
-Aaron Held