Souls of blind-alley, alas:
Feat of aeon, accomplishment of aeon,
revelation of all.
The sound of the last paean.
Froom, froom, froom, from the ballyhoo.
Glory descending, soldiers in kudize.
Saviour sacking, shell employing.
Tug of war, wind up.
Conquerors clapping, aerial melodies out
for the sound of the last paean.
Many paeans, come and gone
some of hatred, not to talk.
The sound of the last paean drawl.
The pellucid victory, many aeon prepare.
A king lead, free travel home,
Praising and hailing
with holiness abroad.
Seeing the typology, offenders asked,
the sound of the last paean rebuked.
Umbra of them judged,
men in Hades and hot bank,
Surely their ululate wont save,
the paean return ascending with the
chosen for the sound of the last paean.
Ebi Robert
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sound-of-the-last-paean/
