Hieroglyphics

The said hieroglyphics drove into the night, Racked up its mystery, then parted and swiped, Bellowed at suspicion and candid eye sight, To foster fomented a reasoned parallax, piped. Left to right, oppositely for contrite poise, Firm doors open keen, quick ready pens, Horizontal alignment - or vertical repose noise, A quiet supposition leaks to radiate slight dens. Nowhere are the changers and the dyes, Tainting for pleasure with respect full in heart, The sound of footsteps - here, there, with eyes, Demarcating foundations from glittery art. The ben is there - detected and rye, sucking, Shuffling previous dust beside dirt untouched, The crazy ones create the world for bucking: Reason defines the fibre, with mesh touched.