Hurling through the room there she fares,
Asks of her our demise await,
‘Twas not the sake of mine but long for lost,
Breeches me and temptly sound,
Sung not I though weeps she alas what feign,
Howls what pain, no pleasure comfort,
Hinders; finely chained but only leashed: mine;
So asks, mind bestows, ghastly spell awake,
Beckons at call forth, strong averted gaze found,
Sounds breathe into my world as my gates part,
Enters here, revenge sought; soundedly mooned,
You embrace me for what disgrace ere sought;
That these roses pour forth what mud tramples,
And rolls thy sight sought, at least departed thine,
Head is but the anchor that weighs down to mine,
Bites through the leaves, burns through me slow,
Weaves me together what she thought, so parted;
Redeemed anew, but not ever left me ere deliberate,
Yolk in my soul only released from thy egg disperse,
That to be cracked is to be childish in my word here,
Soundedly spake amid heart beats only fast, daint:
No, am only in love with you; do not say I hate you,
Am loved, though must punish; what love asks,
Beckons pleasure and seeks the pain inside,
Cracks, and slowly faints into ye, my love,
Here, leaving and tearing us apart whence,
And dances of all round our open seat,
Bows my head as ours Monarchs ordained,
That to Him so both we replace,
That on thine this Produce fairer gowned,
That lingers in me so takes over me,
That breathes does make the drink of ye,
Consumes and slowly crawls in thy skin, surrounds;
Ball into my heart replace, sent this heart abroad;
Allowed and fallen soundly rest to sleep ere wait,
Walks and treads through the stair yonder fare await,
Presents solemnity in my brow does the tree shame,
And burns; that in our hearts only decayed what lay,
Wherefore this word only smokes; the flames only rage.

So the Pleasure awaits, yet soundedly bold only cold,
And speaks to him, while the fire my life only cease.

Category:
Mysterious, Poetry, Romance, Works
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