Oedipus Poem by Faeo de Lyre

Afore forth, let me intil my brother ago, make.
A brother that paved my scope, that intil
This same breast, nursed, __ milky intil the
Teeth and honey intil our tongue. Journ you
In health, O Chukwuma! It is my wake at
The heaviest breast-crack of a down-gyved
Brother, in the course of our beloved mother;
A sleep thus, from the cry of a brother __ dying.

Have me thus from the prodigals for black-sheep,
All extravagant. E'en the home-prouds, yet from
Our roof but half for a brother, prisoner. And
Have me, upon my class-first constitution
And front, firm, not in my secret.

Had but the father, muteness moment up,
Though set affairs afar; from concern, breathe
Upon and across him. Not my sentence for the
Heart but marry my mother. Alas! There's my
Blood in my piece of meat. Had father early,
Advised of his slay, had he still, hence, he
Would alike, not.

I can kill this father and embrace where I
Came art, but all from blood, nor to sword, put;
This from gory, my massacre. Not that I am
Measuring how he marrys my mother nor do I
Feel to marry her better, but sworn oath of
Affection with her blood and as might nature
Told, I shall straight, pull my love in waste,
If one good round is wont to greed; oedipudian,
Shelter her crime and run through the father's
Stupor. But his stupor be borne by our manhood
In that there art this family; he put my mother.
Aye! He let this motherhood. Thus, his stupor is
Not but let this bowel nurse me __ as I did took.

If added, let's divide. Let none intervene intil
My distribution but could give gestures from my
Guard, for my will thus abide. Yet, indefinite
Makes my reason but not afield, my gravity.
My pride is partial but it matters in my family.
Let it playing 'round nature and a risky
Flight; aye! My security may wont to valour
But dare challenge the art of touch not __ this
Science is from politics. Who can say how come
May God out of machine? Something fell shall fall,
Break and smell. Gently go! Father, journ
You in health from my health, for this is my
Grudge, comfortable, my confident guilt, if.

Had divine earlier promised or my birthday,
All way intil hence or how breath digested me?
Wandered wild and explored desertly, intil
This motion of flexibility arisen, arise, O mama!
Your is sun still-rising; make from this clocking
And let him tick intil your hour. I can breathe
Thus green; would careless? Let! But there art
My family. From black, let me red across yellow,
Wake and distribute at our line for a whole.