On radius sanctions of sincerity, fortifitous Asmyres cuts through to indemnify
the rebel of redemptive ambivalence. To care to “real time”,
Asmyre’s opulence is indeed a perspective drawn near,
then exhaled in gasps, whimpering futile ingots of Sartremonial trivia.
I command none of my thrown away gestations of vernacular vestates.
It is the liar that brings the feast to my sordid table.
I see merry weather in constraint of lashing the mask off regents
of inoculate petty thieves of virtue. Were I to be in such high remonstrance
that I cultivate and transpire all guilty verdicts to the platitudes of self acclaimed knowers,
the opportune versifiers, that which I portune with insoluble vigor myself,
would that chip the fatal blow to the jargon rock of dissolute inference of that “I must know”.
I am heir to the throne of all, all that is inspired, all that reaches enmity, all forever,
the question unresolved is my salutar avarte’. – Sinz