A Ballad:
On the Lord’s grand portrait of history
there’s a human blot that no man shall rinse. It’s plainly seen in England when Edward, King Henry the 3rd’s son, was still a prince.
HABEAS MENTEM! λόγος! אוֹר! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
A Ballad:
On the Lord’s grand portrait of history
there’s a human blot that no man shall rinse. It’s plainly seen in England when Edward, King Henry the 3rd’s son, was still a prince.
Some modern heads are like a marble bust,
a bust of Zeus, filled with foul perverse lust.
Most hideous thoughts make them crack a smile.
That’s why they serve old Zeus, a pedophile.
Some who profess to be wise are quite dumb
when they presume to resume a custom
which, from the greatest men, received due scorn,
a deadly custom by which no life’s born.
Same-sex deviants, it can’t be denied,
have already died in spirit. They’ve died.
Their sexual classicism’s contrived.
But what if ancient wisdom was revived?
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