Brickbat in his fury brickling in the forest promenade,
Their beauteous feet shall lend to the prime of thy youth,
Where services shall flush aboard and brouhaha flees in the swords of the angelicals,
Now is the trial time to face trash piles of junoesquely juntos and scrapheap of the horrorbiles at abesi,
As wobbly feet of adventures,grimace tottering motes of the espionage to trick wizardry at abesi,
To adduce to the curios of wasp and bees, As kept conundrum in their trenches to stampede pyrates to a standstill.
Let them loose bites in the defty winces of nocturnal ambush,
Forest escapades left him jaundiced,a wanderlust homeless of the egregious deadwood,
Sullivan rose to stardom in the face of the foremost expedition,
Whereon had stealthily mated wasp and bees stratagem,
And hid in derision of ambiguous delusions,the scorching bees beneath chevaux-de-frise unperturbed
Wow,what a trailblazer,a magic wands!
Medley hung at his little huts ,
where infantile trenches interred footsores of the acatalectic battalions tangled in demise and drowned,
And to his court the wizardry of Tumulus a dozen horses stampeded,to pay homage.
The horse hoofs adorned with cascabels had woke him up and bombarded him in the seas of standing ovation .
Not a Casanova like the two Wizards at abesi,
Unthrifty in lonely lust and thus saith him the homiletics to the medley:
"Beyond the contours of the woven bees of the trenches,
Shall lay the stunted gallows and scornful goofs of pointificates ,
Had I not lay her in oblivion the Cassandra of thy wizardry,
the knight of old this dusk shall not have blush,
That wars were never won in beautiful houses,
filibusters,palaces of gold , ovation and protocols of the unbroken jaws,
But in battered bars of broken dreams and vicissitudes,
closed beyond sangfroid's idiosyncrasies in much distant funnel of their illustrious fools.
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