Our Man in Europe (O' how tired we are of You), Lord Borgo, ESQ., Sicilia, ITALIA: "LUCIFER!!!"
LUCIFER, OLDE NICK, your Brothers keeper, a solitary light on a Moonless night, insistent; your Mother's WEEPER (?), Indolent, CORPULENT, your Father's METEOR and Sisters (U have?) of Mercy who SING in a vacuum of music-cum-silence or East and West or North and South on such a compound EVENT, a breeze in Time's flight, inclusive: a Bird's feather...?
A bird's feather, into a hearth of hopes? -DESCENDING, twirling feather...to satisfy your PAGAN delight! INCINERATED, Burger-King, some sunny day? -Divesting (UN-clothed) , NAKED in Pagan delight, and hopes, wishes, fueled by latent desire? WHO sings your Song? Who BUILDS the Ovens of Negativity!?
RAVENS! OMENS! A Murder of Crows, surrounding "the FEW", a "Roncevalle" of IDEAS, hopeless-ALAMO, an Inner-Blitzkrieg, that UN-Deliverance, UN-freed, PRE-shackled, Under-spent, post-bankrupt, only AWARE of a severe Accounting: FORTUNE driven to its Sticking Post! Hung on its own Petard! A Poster Child! -"Woe to the Vanquished!?"
LUCIFER, OLDE NICK, kneels by your side as U PRAY to UN-entangle your supplement orientation? But CALL him by name!, as his shadow slithers across your bedstead, who's hand, just once in your LIFE, U did deign to GRASP or relinquish?
c2017/davedelacroix/LORD BORGO/Sciacca/Sicily
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