g324703340, 13 февраля 2014 г., 15:31
Amidst the gust of wind swept astray Tarrying moonbeams shade many a meadow, Eldritch darkness hover laden horizons As a lone linnet long for the sovereign morrow. Across the antique shire a backstreet bard With a pure elan at his silvery mansion, Beside the embers and the long gone flames Do pour into his elegy undone. "O the cold hamlet" his quire read, "Vanished to the treacherous wizard's curse, And a vicious viper or a pard's lethal conspire... On still gravel of ages hustles its hearse. Unsung are the matinee, the psalm's verses, And lost lyrics of the lass and the lad, For drenched is their legend along the lagan's debris And wrecked is their epic on the murky sand bed." "Massacred are the chronicles" the solitary claim, "For ruffian's paradise the mighty land remain; Alas! The long decade's rule meet such facile an end" And darkened sturdy pavements ever worth a disdain? Late the linnet dream, its pious soul sing... Of a golden scepter bear pearl facets so bright! And a unicorn revive through so old a fable, As a dark horse rise to reign the urban night. (Photo not found) Author: Me
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