Was I the coruscant antebellum kindred
To your predilection of extraneous vagary?
Aeon past the tachyon of obsequious depredations
Within thralls of specular painstaking coterie
My reprieve was but an aspersion of its faux edifice
Construed and cogitating in a stringent sepulchre
The drivel of platitudes and pugnacious respite
The pinnacle of obstinate, sulphur tongue abjured
The tomes writ under tantalus, narrating its temerity
A paragon of predicament, deleterious I may be
So scourge me in pugilistic nostrum and brash facsimile
Audacity and recidivism alike, burning constabulary
How succinct you are, garmented in laburnum clamour
As gregarious plaintive impertinence vehemently quavers
The verboten of pretentious and erroneous miscreants
Tidal waves of synchronous aesthete, pale arrogance defiant
Was I the exculpated alla breve you defended quite magnanimously
Your aspiring coltish sphene of the sacrilegious cognoscenti?
If only these coronary provocations were veritable, not desultory
The emolument for infatuation are naught but languorous presentiments.
A Lost Painting