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A new satirical poem from fantasy author/screenwriter, Jason Falloon.

Resignation of patience only serves to delight

Those with plantations of herbs to ignite.

Their thrones’ limitations upturned like the kite

Re-berthed over Earth to be curbed out of sight.

Through four-hundred rotations discerned from such height,

These birds’ elevation heard words unalike

The verse from the dirt that disturbed them for life…

Excuse those cocoons entombed ‘bove the pines,

Left, none imbued, by weasels with pikes.

Not derived due to evils which snake ‘neath the vines,

They’ve collided with sequels while seeking the skies.

Where summits still spike and upheavals daren’t hike,

The wolf and bear-might of last totems respite.

And forget not the Sur, where gold eagles took flight

To only elude and unequal their rights.

Though, just as the moon can intrude on the night,

Truths prove as pseudo once under the light,

New flocks roost their brood when conjured from plight.

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