The speaking stone

The freezing breeze whirls,
In the conjure of furuncle of secrets
Secrets in the deep abyss;
Engulfing and embracing the shackles of shades
Shades of infinite color’s, or facets, or seas of sea
Sea, with the senile stature
As, is a satirical, of Aristophanes’ playwright
Romped and retched with its own tides
To witness; the aperture, of the aberration as ripples
It dies to live and lives to die in every moment
For thy! Momentum is recurring plea of this melodramatic drama
Yet, that colossal stone has not ceased to censor the inert inertia
Getting emaciated with every slap by moments
It loves, hugs and drugs itself to stand unmovable
It is all the story of some speaking stone

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