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Ode To The Scarce Widow

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I.
               Thou feel still uncouth cry of silence 
           Thine poster cline under heavy enlightened seas
         Over many significant of immense violence
                    O, why then thy love of numb shalln’t dissolve sleeve.
              Aging difference of among such holiness vision
              Nor vision as astonishing thy moral fear
              On the conclude of removal heft ness collision
                     O, will’st thee haven’t wisheth darkness appear
                       Agony—of repetitive verbal heartless love
                    Amongst thy breast of ever less despair impale
              Darkness glare from ecstasy’s deviant dove
                 Oppressing of drowse against her liquorish ail.

II.
             Why then doth call or only suite from fancy
        Or by force under sole pain’s unquothed value
                        Or quarrel frustration while the drug thou enhancing,
               Amount for emptiness yonder of shallowness adieu 
             O, why scarce east sun doth thee feel
                     Such lack ness opinions of thy unscented health
                    But lacking hath dominion of beauty seal
                     And make thy flavored kiss hover my stealth.
                          O, love of scorn—clothing thine hath torn
                          As pigeons abound my bar doth feed and stare
                             Into defiance of craved solicit and crime 
          And hearts of blossom plant of thorn.

III.
O, what songs thy spill fond of tune
              On the heart crest shape sketching over her wrist
Serenade moons in solitude moods
         Ye, formed by assertion dwelled marching midst.
                   Shall thee disappoint such apparent groom
             And her lips of roughness dry lands of touch
              Or the oceans and seas—and ugliness reflect
                 A bridal seam of tearney wars are bloom.
                 Soreness is dreary nor dizziness is wearing
                    Thy broken dreams of sorrow and husband of rarity.
          O, then is thee of sleepy haunt and compress
             And candle lightened stones of ceremony and charity.

IV.
           Poor furnished hand; sullen sequence of grip
                    Those of engagements of what love hath unwrit
            But those of mind, an unneedy spirit of soul
                           Or the heart of wealth without acquaint writh
                           Thy failure of greed, o, as thee of approachment
               And mine tongue of seldom and sickened fever
                    Thou sense of requench and of remembrance
                         Over tide and shallow shrill being of resemblance
                              O, breath of star and sense of common free
                          Where’st thou when thou spirit reaches not my own
                         Or the lips of watery eyes and deaf ear sea 
                            Among coldness hue of were agony thou no sun hath shone.

V.
           “O, cry not—for thee lacks but tear" thou’st say
                       Or thou means of unquoted means untearful tears
                 What is not a tear, for is there any clearer feeling of sore
                        Nor is what lonely nights hath thy unscorned fears,
                    But thou doth lack of breath and snuff, but feel
        And feel thou blister of sensational beauty
                Or as thou clings to her dress and nudist kneel
                   For thou blindness of serenity eternity.
              Agony—of repetitive verbal heartless love
                 Amongst thy breast of ever less despair impale
                    Darkness glare from ecstasy’s deviant dove 
             Oppressing of drowse against her liquorish ail.