PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS'DIARY.SONNET-117

The bibliomaniac festivity breaks no festoon and longevity,the salvation earth with its looming tussled trigger fingerstalled,they fiddle insulated,whose shallow spectre thunders like a tonado,the floodtide crushes the fatcats and the minnows alike'twixt this cross borne at its metropolis jetsam'd by its indigent folks,mired by opaqued inquisition for a saviour,time and season,cannot deny,even starry night's memoirs cannot recall,to flush away this flummery that blinding furnace,which vapours a foretaste doth it imbues,This imbroil however the rapport doth beguilles sweet vision,slains freedom,still a fugitive gadding on a furtive clad,hibernating in an alien land,Sometimes preposterous as the absurd of hecatomb's protruberances,rampaging with immodest pride,Alupluto's imbroglio of the fair breeder's nissus mischief,being trapped as round robin meander in the flattering hoila,Behold when sweet vision will outshine the oddysey as it were in the days of the golden yore,freedom,shall speaklustrously from gaol.