Manifold to be hindered by blowing storms


Sometimes they strike you at the rear
Nowise blemish your intact spear
To whom that doesn't care to share the despair
Camion of ammunitions is riding down as
Well as a bolt of worn-out metal to derail.

 The marching chorus hit the drums,
As withering horizons unveiling the masks
Of the darned ruler and his frivolity chests.
Helpless as we were we never stopped singing
Until a dead man's chests seized our biddings.

Concubines of mighty rulers Hubbles on golden
Pipes, though, their miserable fortune is certain to
Flip up the dice. Chariots of allegiant forces are
Swarming right into my city, when a gipsy man of
A common labor is stroked down by a tipsy

The mantelets of my company
Have been harshest to the bone
And only by mean of mercy I am alive
To set this tone.
Now the city wall is breached -could
The conqueror mist shed off
The story of my private Iliad?

 The marching chorus hit the drums,
As withering horizons unveiling the masks
Of the darned ruler and his frivolity chests.
Helpless as we were we never stopped singing
Until a dead man's chests seized our biddings.


Monody bells plays aloud the dirge that
Shuffle my memory with visions of old times sake
The throttled ambience is forerunning the end
Of my softly sculptured Iliad.

 Don't ignore the hour -glass shell until
War is waged against those who seat
Behind the tinted desks.