The ravens flutter

How doeth the raven falter, within this intreped rapture,
Thou can not deny my impetuous encounter,
From this living, breathing example
Of unholy scripture upon my life and soul.

Shant not, become not, what we all despise,
For in reality of the purpose you can't usurp us,
Within this trinity of golden blessing
Upon the beauty of our eternal sun rise.
I shall beguil my hope within the placid, chaotic group,
As remains apart from material demise.
One can never truly be free,
As life is but the dreaming dementia within insomnia
And that is what you can not realise...

For in truth we are nothing but the resultant of all our own lies.