Tale of Eyelashes

To thee vision of my sire, I always protect his eyes in aspire.
To thee aggression of my sire, I always retrospect his dines in retire.
To thee submission of my sire, I always introspect the pines he desire.
To thee revolution of my sire, I always suspects the lines he require.
 Votes of gory, bloodsheds of slavery were never his play,
Instead notes of glory, hood shields of bravery were his only play.
 Thunderous hooligans raging past the forest to raid my sire,
Tumultuous bandwagons waging fast in unrest to raid my sire,
are eager to grab blue eyes of my sire.

Hideous eyelashes along with its wavy locks concealed the gaze of enemy,
Tedious vie thrashes with heavy knocks revealed the faze of envy.
 Momentary fall of dreary night   to camaflouage the enemy’s sight,
Pleasantry call of hearty might to message the gloomy night,
That Thine sire’s sedentary blue eyes crave to hide in thy lap of eye lashes to the loony fight’s plight.