Smoke-spun gryphons stood deterrent, apparently given no budge;
That is, until one actually bothered strolling up, giving them a shove.
What appeared brick proved moist, slick like a sludgy scudgy mucky mud
One felt that one, given sufficient provision, could lick away the vista.
Grave sentinels custom and rite forbade any man from touching stood
Before gates which tore away paperlike before our long-latent rage
Uncaged at last. Alas, that wolf dies though a reader wishes he survives.
Pictures so blanched of artifice, their starkness hunted away darkness
Like an Artemis.
Alchemisland 
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