The Ninth Lane

The monarch of Roman Empire rode on his steed

Through the ancient dream; once left in sadness

But the unknown loam led him to an awry byway

And it sent shivers to his cold bones; flimsy spirits

For the framed mind never firmed at the crossing

So it cruised towards the downhill, down the dale

For he knew his princess would stay; at ninth lane

And he sped across the sleety silver stream; uphill

To find the mystery lane; stretched lower the sky

For he chased until the sun gave way to the moon

And upon every twigs lingered a furtive message

Through the dark hills, towards the ninth thruway

And his steed sped to seize his dream; his fair love

Amid all the vantages; around the twelfth hour

 When the night slept away, and the dawn arose

His heart whispered of her unwearied waiting…