Voiced explorer, sent shivers down the spine
Of the dogged storm’s backlash, as, whole sky,
Inkling, struck, with “a-roar-air’s” sigh-lent whine,
Dye-fuse, that would eek out passions, to be
Felt, tipped ’pon anchored clouds, crestfallen, when
Encroached by twilight that twinkles less, de-
Liberate, chained in pitch, but lit by flares en-
Trenched in sky’s tinted tides “bore-realistic“:
Very simile-chewed as his teeth gnashed,
Over-hued, by sanguine streams, more mystic
In his mind’s eye’s woollen canvas, as flashed,
Congealed in crimson bloody-mindedness:
Ensconced in light, snow’s swept o’er mind’s deadness!
