(Redone a sun's sudden explosion
Where it fell false, true in due implosion,
It lit up like the golden moment.)
Sprawling out across a radiant mist grove
Eight arachnid legs disseminated widely,
Eight strands streaming from the walls of
A dighted fortress with fortituded delight;
Made up sun bitten stones and semantic might
Its color changed to black from white,
an omen of the impending sight.
Out onyx sides in anchored ties
Seven said ropes reached in silver shine
Across the orchard, till aligned
With the four and split cardinal directions:
Lacking a true north tie, the eight gold strand
Flew up into the sky!
Seven sisters stumble from the rounded sides
In azure silks with hair like rye,
Blushing Pleiades on courteous lines:
The silver streaks impale their hearts,
Like railroad carts they were tied
So in straight directions did they depart.
Lucky I, to regard their names
But I do recall with pastoral pains:
Ira and Acedia took East and West
Superbia led South
And Invdia, Luxuria, Avaritia and Gula
Took to the split directions,
Till reached the border
In fainted projections.
Of enigmatic engage
With passive smooth assuage
From the heavens an eighth sibling shined,
Brought by the golden appendage;
Like a firm hand had held her high
And pulled her down
From the illuminate sky.
I recollect with cheery breath
The maiden from clear firmament
Opt call herself Delectatio,
And much like slow snow she hung in air
Until like storms her form was erred:
For as her celestial locus drooped
(I find myself still finely duped)
Out her back grew spine and tail
Out her head came horns like nails.
Alike untirke fiery meteorite
At quick swift pace and so wrathly bright,
If a thousand gazed with visions clear
They could not have focused on her alight.
Redone a sun's sudden explosion:
Where it fell false, true in mid implosion,
She lit up as the golden moment
Upon her touch with tower's top.
Then every maid came bounding back,
Pulled full force along seven silver tracks,
They reached the structure, in one hefty heave
The tower caved with lethargic leave.
Moments after the devastation
The birds made tones that hung so frail,
And all did sing as if the sun
But none as bright as nightingale.
I <3 criticism, don't be shy to give your opinion!