That prisoner of the spirit merits some free air

Expounded to release him from his dungeon mind

Whence comfortably inherited fixed legalism binds

Without a doubt ensuring prior truth molested  

Onions unknown, flocked carapaces, down,

Disport as insulation to his empty pocket heart

A sort which sorts reality as silly sheep and goats

One bred to be exploited; one adorned with flatteries tropes:  

A strew of gauche intemperate idolatries

Their concourse ideology, or draw of appetite,

A commonwealth of games in parliamentary elections

The soda in the pop of alimentary predilections  

Whose urges surge the sugars, crying havoc, whispering wails

Over and over, on a diseased metabolism

Of psyches, physiologies, in all - the total frame

It's how we eat and speak we live life as ordained

  By God, in gifted freedom, as the sad retained remainders,

Who by The Flood, The Fall, have made a company of strangers

Untrue pursuviants of love's lost verities

Each in his bark afloat alone upon a human stew  

As such, as given, we cede ourselves no harmonies

The soul and all society a coney rabbit hole

Down wherein folds and spools no rules, only controls

Here rules are abstract obstacles descried illusions  

By splendid sleights deluded

Each is his island, no parts pleasure the dissevered main

The tolls of life call, peal to heal, to patch us up

Sent out to tell us weal and woe and sorry disappointment

  But then their chimes strike empathies with only Peeping Toms

The spider feasts upon flies clinging to walls

Activist lay your line down; shoot it from your lips

Militant spray your gun around; firing from the hip

  Colleagues in deeds together, brothers unto one another

Advocates in the trade makes every human breast disaster

Yet abject ardently, set neither for, against, by policy

Nobody's stuff enough to warrant absolute authority  

Artificially spun self-serving bringing only calamity

And herein is your Valhalla? No!, nor neither a Nirvana,

Can soothe that fire we choose to seethe ourselves among

All crimes in-arms; slap-happy, clashing, contravening, squashing  

Outbreaks of loving peace

This is the truth, the trough we chase to revel in

Like as the cravens censured in the Lord's blessed book.

A mite bee sting to have what for our greater wealths  

Sits rankling in the dish but too much chokes and chafes

Against the grain; besides to have it salves that unguent regnant pain

That channels, amplifies, our animal angled rage

Go look him up, he's us; confessing on a Google page  

The same page may be vending inoffensive winners

Of upright livings; but here he stares a work right out of you

Oppressing through your liberties; exchanging suzerains

As acrimony's accessions  

The guy whose gluey eye runs weighting trifle difference

Settling scores for others, vies unkind doctrinal rounds

No bell no corner, referee; all title is out of bounds

A gorgeous righteous free-for-all; glee, contumely, confounds

  Nailed to his Standard towel hangs a dangling social justice

Thrown in with kitchen sink, lashings of pepper, curry, mustard,

Surmise his stratagem; vim his malaise

And enjoyments only residents of cemeteries

  His eidolon, his penchant grieves the given 'must'

Which rests for its performance on the fallible best of us

Who do: – remaining pining, but yet not complaining

Just getting on with things  

To make, as best, what might be, as is blessed by Providence

Our lots who tot the common lot up as sufficient

A meek society where reverence serves as co-efficient

And forms respect for bread earned under moot conditions

  Here stakes his eagle in the ground of such concession

And were the ground less levelled, clear, then should no contour

But suffer him. Thus on the peace of toleration

He rests his shoulder

  Converges so to scourge what needs no purge, but only learning

By an opening-out, an education, let the morning sun in

Rising as like a strong man loves to run his race;

Know you, vacate your hegemonies, concede The Son his place