I won’t dare call this affection
For if I summon it, I’ll suffer unwilling dedication
I pluck out the daggers from a combined reaction
The openings bleed,infesting defecation
Slither my tongue take my muse by the palm
Mutated flows of sinking holes
My love wishes no spoil no hallowed harm
Latched attachments through preceding roles.
My seekers of truth remain luscious in condensed form
Only promises came sure while posing as senile
Calm winds caress this tender decrepit storm
I am a world destined to a conundrum of denial
I stay clothed by exemplary hope
A cape made a warrior of an itinerant dame
Long and tyrant my arms wither like death rope
By now the devotion becomes doddery as the limbs of a lame.