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.
Copyright © Dominique Webb | Year Posted 2023
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