What gain is there in meter
Protocols of bridled rhyming
That seem judgment enshackled
The bindings of rhetoric snaring
Freedom to soar prosaic skies
Cruising over the abyss emotional
To touch the spirits inherent
Even from that eternal slumber
Tear loose those chains fettered
Opinions carry little to reason
Her voice bids reckoning in mist
Those obscurities of perception
Soaring prosaic skies...