through gemini skies of all who walk devine

through Gemini skies of all who walk devine

what purpose in a crawl of bright elite?

what flesh on bone that burns a bitter grave?

a king in exile lost

a legacy of three roads hanging still.

no nightingale of years of rich desire

until the last our memories of May.

how many doosteps dream of days gone by?

through soldiers eyes of sycamore and mud

our dead child free of all until this last

should London call at dusk and beg retreat;