What little sunshine being recognised

Out of a storm flames approaching disorder

Building vast contradictions without impediment

Widespread in antiquity with alluring interpretations

Constituting mutilated transformations whose opposing

Lies stinking and fly swarmed, rotting at our feet

What shall I speak

What caring words

Shall be the attractive

Collaboration in destruction

That will bury me in my death

What shall I speak

That will illicit ambitions

And by their presence

Renew my sorrows

What policy what stratagem

Must I employ and plead my passions

What shall I propose that has unfrequented effects

Where the eye may behold an honesty

Yes, where a charitable tongue

May offer a delightful engine off thought

To cure this unrecuring wound

Leaving speechless the voices

Of unremitting practice

Who would raise their arms in sequence

To hear what I shall speak

Words so piteously performed

Enough to swear all villainies to spotless chastity

Leaving all words to abomnibile untruths

That would shame stone angels

Yet friendly in their blind complaint

What shall I speak

That you may learn my thought

What shall I speak

Unfettered falsehoods that lure by practice of pretense

Make subject to a tyranny of questionable inquisitions

That claim themselves both by treaty and inheritance

Pursue with a vigor blind narcoleptic dancers with a ferocity

That embalms the bones with the tears of a million fans

Who in such tragedy represent that image and behold him

His limb freshly bleeding reading his words in lamentation

Let me hear him, let me hear him

Whose tongue does emphasize

A drama of frenzied elements

Impoverished by ridicule of vicious energies

That try to shape coherent form

Between contending factions

Thus registering predicaments

In a tragedy of vivid language

That mutilates a cannibalism of words

Come, take my breath one last time

Whose kiss in eager presentation fits

And possibilities linger on my lips

Disguised as gullible identities

Who seem more real and equally matched

With whom they are contrasted

Producing tantalizing prospects of riches

That can never be retained

This is for you

You nearly destroyed me

With frostbitten

Prowling fingertips

And never ending tongue

I will not be the map

Nor Constellation of your

Permissible presentations

Or improvised gender constraints

You do not know me

For I am all the possibilities

That are, that have gone before

That are yet to come

I am a trillion blazing suns gently burning

This is for you

You nearly destroyed me

With frostbitten

Prowling fingertips

And never ending tongue

I will not be the map

Nor Constellation of your

Permissible presentations

Or improvised gender constraints

You do not know me

For I am all the possibilities

That are, that have gone before

That are yet to come

I am a trillion blazing suns gently burning