A Testiment to The Grand and the Severe Nature of Great Britain; Tower of London

Britains historical menagerie,
A place of anchient severity;

where Anne Boleyn lost her head,
and where the other Boleyn girl was said,
to also have been given a permanent bed.

Where Sir Walter Raileys deseted room,
where his first edition is said to bloom,
like a flower,
free to the eye of those whom,
care to read 'a history of the world',
by the light of noon.

Where the Queen had hidden from the fires,
and stowed away larakins in the highest towers,
and extended and expanded with every century,
and built quite a statement to the machine
and country.

A place to salvage the great britaish behaviours,
and an homage to great saviours,
as it was not only a grounds for the unseen,
but a place of grand regalia.

The royal crests and jewels,
for every grand passing,
lay rest in the displays,
of present day basking,

centuries of polished stone,
the biggest, the grandest and the widest known,
an imaculate gleam, as if fresh from the grinder,
but a price so unspeakable,
its utterance would be like a solemn reminder,

with the tower itself, as such a testiment,
to the glory, the granduer of past King's and Queens steps,
and the foot print they leave in the pages of time,
to the now open wide dungeons, once guarded,
now mined.