A poet of such rarity
From Sanskrit to The Propechy
Of Tree not thought of cut
Like Blue Blood wrath of drought
Rivers of Blood in Red she lay
Full of Hollow extracted Greed
Holy Water Lay Death in Oil
The oil I have drunk from beneath the soil
To entrench & cleanse the water of The Holy Grail
The Restoration Lies within the Spring of Field
Will writes like Wilde yet fortune foretold
From Shakespeare to a modern worded University Hospital
From Epping Forest to The Priory of Zion where she lay
Queen Mary, I do still pray.
Written by: Will Wilde on Tuesday 30th May
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