Love Poem: A Mandrake's Gesture Vol. Ix
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Written by: Trevor Morse

A Mandrake's Gesture Vol. Ix

"For the mighty woes
of our desperation,
our much need'd embark,
an appraisal of 
valor.  I must 
lead this army
to uphold virtue."
Prince Alarumdives
strode upon, seeking 
the contempt of his 
desires.  The King and 
his bastard portrayal,
left feelings of emptiness,
though closed.
Upon awaiting the 
outcome of this 
mighty showing, he
did bring forth
the maiden, Geinere.
"Your blasphemies supposed,
confuse me woman.
Conjurer of elementals,
this sudden mise of 
war.  How you?  How
you Geinere?"
"A dove's cry, a 
looming hawk, nowhere
to be found, this 
bit of fear, for your 
filth and dishonor,
I will concede.
I am at no mercy
for you, this meditation
of murder and failing
innocence. . . ."

II.
For the tempest 
and its accusal.
The portrayal at 
no delay.  Be it 
sorrowful, melancholic,
poor Geinere, her 
burgeoning grave, 
the king's declaration.

"Poorest dear, the 
gleeful glances you will,
appreach'd of lechery,
this wise King fallen
upon."
""These battles brought 
upon this kingdom
from afar. . . the Gods,
surely their vengeance 
for this decadence 
and disgrace!"  Geinere 
spoke with Venusian 
flame.
"You, oh glorious
you Geinere,
debauched, acts 
of such mindful
lusts, betrayal, a 
moment's freedom
no more, imprisonment,
mischievous!"

To no delay,
Geinere, under way.
For the mournful
maiden, the deceitful
treachery, so falsely
accused, this bitter
resolution, patience
her virtue.
Geinere, speaking
sharply as her pride
erupted, questioning
the royalty she was 
to respect and admire.

"Why, why this unfathomable
beast, and its deafening
capture, the hypocrisy
and its right, falling
from grace, may there
be victory, for my
Prince and his love.
The Gods, I do ask,
betaking repentance,
this kingdom of Martyr!"