Pain above thy brow, shrill sureal wave of tide and joy,
Of those who whither her arm too
loosley with scared minds.
O, they fill surrender until thee could mock unsuch deploy,
And dose much through the heart
of many kinds.
So gypsy like she walks among the heft
Of those who make learning untolerable.
Such guilt came
to thy ear as but a whisper
And the tide ceases within the parable.
Though she may borne upon senseless inpunity,
Her sister claims a jealous tongue of wealth
Thou unravished bird of torn effinity,
And the words of war are indeed
Take thy bow without thy spirit from the shelf
And if thee desires such of follow up of unrested health.
How untender such a name can mean unsaid,
While attending understood spirits of the tenderness.
of loft with much unforeseen depression hath paid.
Sadness had touched thine purely without a mute
And taught the
bone to suffer such impurity.
The sorrow that both we make with mess
With sounds according to those undressed insincerely
A sleepy seam upon thy breast
The skies above do not dwell with pleasure.
Cornered by such confirm of situated
Through the blindness with soft slender
Their veins own a marvel of pity and thorough
Within the wavered
of such dying hearts
Thou enriching detailed face of ever less motion of prime.
O, my Loneliness-if I
shall surrender to thy army of swell
Let it become such to that of my peer
Of such holy encounters of sleep and numb
In the laboratories of delight’s purchased sheer.
It’s holy corrupt and flood of unreal reality
It had never spent what my fortunes keep
Utmost prompts of abandoned searches of child employ.
coldness I forgive with much immediance
Though I sought thee by my side as I trace these spells.
A bitter traverse
had opened my unclosed eye
And read the words that suffer by defiance.
I partake the pleasures within the humility,
Among those kisses I have awaken with such offend
I had taunt with few condolences which impale thy pity.
Thy sleep saith unrelent among thee sheet
Sorely impale amongst the bone-togeather hued
Henced through those of
Nor though had then the patient of thy flu.
Ye! I say to them I mustn't dime
Or for then the prophecy
I most awaken was true.
Ah, thee blindness says it has despair among the past
O, the heart tells this sketch must
Or the past paves thy nail through my fail
I hadn't saken thee-for thine heart still suffers
And I pen
my spit within the tomb of ail.
Tastes of shiver had I never but to sought
Nor the pace thee with but solicited pit
I writ without a lack of the fought.
O, thy weeps within those spent hours of thee
My travel has much
unstepped among the grass
Sullen much with thee on commitment glee
How thine hand breaks at the peak of its bypass.
The sun scarcely reveals color among the field
And the moon has her tongue upon thine eye
And the winds are motley
filled with lack bliss
Nor the trees aren’t their own without yield.
Much deanery is reclining on my neck
dreary upon weakening amend had my attent,
Such meaningless vows are spoken from broken heart
And my words are meaningless
O, my flower remains when I saw thee stand down
Her redness blush merely wears thy silver crown.