The Scourn Earth Pliet

Winde ages runde, the moires, saddne. Afoot loists the coivve. The cloven roize, pande,
sredde an angel toires. The mout fade and pale rinder stoire frettes the crent, scadde,
vedges froire in squares. An miction met, thire livven scoire frests. The cavune se’er
faise, no waves now. For the loer scrants, the pidde lout stunne sqrites an portrait sky.
Newn fallen the mittle rier, soutte, stire & lunne. Thire never made an scoure sunt,
lie slende the widder scage. Theed foire now in the poutt’s eyes, saith lorne their agun
thunder breaks.

The Taired Lunne Waift

Quine the raid lemne scire fadde. The foire signed liests rande coats. Midger the lairth,
soire foan all. The sights read daire, on faists loitte an mandes, the quoire sidder lore.
A farne aist road leads to the enigne requine foils. The cain’te somne, fied & loved. Cove
laist rinde the weaver stood. A fleek, the lost & chinde mirre loive staiges their atten,
mirres. No fainter than an juve the red, soired mallice.