What cruel to us finds us faintheart’d
Whom hides faults not well that the stars depict
Our sweet love vast most minds desire,
But slow our minute’s motion at the heat of ***
*** too cruel, if pure pleasure our foe
Bliss’ deception of what Evil fools
What fools that love, what fools that cannot - thence truly the heart faint
As thy heart or dying star troubled by truth,
And lost in a constant hour which such time encapsulates the finality of things
Whom so a beast, I so thy beast - and beauty beside
Besides; if such faint heart dwells a dream, of imagining heavens
Some mortal heart in truth survived
That I say at last our truth revived

I am here, breathing, what left of me
Allowing you to devour me, taking boldly my innocence to alight more bliss into your dome of travesty
I could not even breath - all to just get out of love
It will never escape me, this truth, in the end we had been fooled to believe this phase had ever mattered. That there is truly a single jewel that holds true realism to make end this hell.
I could not breath but now
But now I can better, see better, dream better, and be me better
What greater breath can suffice?
If I am ever again short of breath be sure that my last sight of you is longer

Who will hear me sob, this weep like mortal melodies
This woe of songs if this toot so ever heard
Not by such hertz or watts, but by cosmic chantey
...mortal melody.

O monogamy, sweet so monogamy
Have me by this rimy night so I may bear your cold’st kiss
To espy eyes blazed in scarlet hue
If not for this holding us part, touching firm this instance
Of what I feel now I could not feel ever,
Could I bask in aughts - a goodness too true as so a sight worth sights
If pulchritude, if vagary...
To innerstand this sorrow, this phase, this ending of me
So lovesick of vanity, this night owes me tears
But tonight she has me, by her brassiere, by lips
Tangl’d in manner and salaciousness - her being to be
Wonder of me, wonder me; if I ever your knight
Wonder if I am enough, manifest your ways unto me
Demand I exist, under your eyes
Impart this velleity, four ways for ways...
Have me, O monogamy
With you will I always be? Your sabbath, your blind’st bliss as too mine
Split with me another moment for much time has rot
Mongst this lour’st hour my heart is wounded by the thorns of essence
To think we are but not cause to this grieve
In sooth; this everly passion now a mortal’s pule
Stay with me on this last’d night
A midnight kiss, a midnight touch, fragrance, a gentle glare...
Monogamy, monogamy.

Who will love like me,
For all facets of facets, hues far and hues close
...
Take 5; our love has not a steady stool
Take 6; remind the love and lovee that the love shalt be true or cannot ever be portrayed
O satyr this scene deserves tears, a kiss, vows!
Romance her, bewray to her HEAVENS
Take 7; BELIEVE IN WHAT IS WRITTEN
This stage is nothing without our feeble steps, step on and be you yet the amour
Who will love like thee,
So proud so proud, goodbye his ego and come forth his vain
Aye this is it
A lover’s course, a lover’s minute, a lover’s troth, ruth, moment, A LOVER’S DESIRE, A LOVER’S SPLAY, a lover’s everything!
This is it, aye.

If this sorrow dares not ever fade, in that what way is my heart paid
Severing the electric within me, the frame within me
What splay! O what splay…
Save me, GOD!
I PLEAD, you step from your throne, your spaceless, timeless domain and save me... A MERE MORTAL AMONGST STARS
Save me, she will not.

My loathy love what lour has riddled thee of sense and sanctimony?
It was this dreary azure was it not, or was it that you’ve grown cognizant, finally, o finally of the vastness of this existence
But so fall not lovely for to tether you back is but a task as I to lift suns
Take me with you if you dare, I plead you dare...your company is to the rotundity of the pith of my being..,
For how long can this sanctity hold?
Held high thy highness not man nor a maid but a distant spirit...but a distant spirit

Thinking of you
Commanding bliss
Making blood, gold spews of tears
Touching spans with my eyes, touching ways with my heart
Have me, have thee
If ever mongst this constancy
See me love if you value me
Come close but stay far like the ether we may gaze but never meet with feeble palms
Thinking of you,
Let me

All I care is for this sudden smell if I dare to ever hold my breath...I cannot. To wallow from this state of means to come to me in dreams and amidst conscious strolls. Do I forbear or do I endure such a beautiful strain? This aroma, what bliss will have me ensconced by waters and corollary of celestial instance. Happy as I not alone so ever in this amazement of chance. The sun has touched me today in ways so true, caressed in spite of these garments that sheathe me. They will not take me alive...I only care for beauty. Care for wealth, for relevance, or power...care elsewhere for such rottenness of the soul is contagious. ‘Contage’ me not, if you wish so not to see the wrath of a gentle man, of a gentleman. This smell will stay I will come to it by morrow. Smell on if this rave meets you, endure the pleasure of such scents as it’s zephyr may touch the walls of mortal nares. Smell on...beauty is by.

My love’s front cannot ever dim in essence. To my fellow men whom may see a beauty within a realm of naked sights. It is not ever that a beautiful sight has become less in its vibrant and sacred ways, it is forever the eye that shifts in trueness for it now everly trite. Never falter by your beloved’s lovest parts, gape firmly at god, gape at your treasure for it matters not if deemed gold or copper. Beauty is beauty.

At I if ever mine highest self, forging pains unto the canvas of wonders...at I mine most calm’st chamber do we all but have one of our own
Trapped in what instance who ought to see me lose consciousness and witness the death of the sage
Or a mage mayhap caged in shackles
Graze me with love oh dear even if from light years away
Or so a still touch for me to swallow still waters.

Of all clear stages, an interdimensional touch, outness dream, the entanglement of like matter
Of all clear stages which shall touch the poet, which shall touch the concubine, the exotic dancer, the artist, the entrepreneur...
Of all sorts in the aughts the same is different so in other worlds, is the difference so in other hearts?

Come like so, turn thee tender to warmth and tears to vintage
Bare view to rare views
But evidently there lies one view, a point center’d in reason
Fearing more distant terrors, becoming more of the frightened
Today we may fear the snake, tomorrow the lord, next, foreverness
As part we are of courses in the obstacles of affinity
I see truly, the sun
Truly, my beloved
Truly, the matters of wound’d time
Truly, the ultra-touch
Truly, the hyperlove
Come like so I say, as thou art comely and manner’d
I too shall come like so to match thy beauty and elegance
I too shall come, truly...with warts and perfections

***? Let us not
Love? Let us dream of it
Lust? Let us desire the lust’d
Touch? Let us caress
Espy? Let us gaze
Fathom? Let us know empathy
Rest? Let’s
You? I dare
I? You swear’d
Alone  As I midst this written phase
Howbeit; these ways shown in tru’st light -
Whereon is the sooth’st luxury, merit and substance to things so proclaim as more and all is the span of thus limits
Are we here...truly?

Yet standing by this sudden apology as I not thy sorry foe
Said many but felt plenty if all in that instance
To forbear mine own skin mongst other flesh
Whom shall love me, whom shall...truly?

I, maim’d with your wholesomeness, with your heavenly mien.
Long the soiree of fallen touches, can not a single palm suffice to feel
It comes to mind, the time after the first, we’ve met again.
With your smile, your warmest gaze,
Had I thought you to be beyond my visage.
There you were, touches away.
Upon your moon, the loveliest garb of them all,
‘The array of a thousand rubies’
And patently I could not ignore the art varnished over your feet.
I knew it too well,
The ‘Platinum Guild Stiletto’...by the known Stuart Weitzman
A fair woman in her element, who can contest..?
I approached, with the slim’st valor I had hoped to fade...
If not now, what chance is there after…
This now could not have ever been soothsaid.
Just a night, a man, and a woman.
What may win me this love shall win me eternity…
From this farthest gape to the eyes of span, to caress or so graze your lovest parts
To touch you Evictus, have I unraveled the origin of touch
To taste you Evictus, have I not made one the savour and the desire, the lusciousness and the duende
My love , my sweet’st potion of desire
This love shan't ever fold for I knowst it true. As this great span held by wonder.
Let us pour our lusted parts into the rivers of outness dreams
And see without scope the collateral beauty within ourselves
I can nevermore gamble your precious heart for mere jewels and riches
If ever, I could not bear for our limbs to never interwove in the midst of our coitus
Whenas day is born it'll be still, we will be still- in romance and forth in the tombs of ecstasy

My promis’d love, have me as you would
For an eternity to meet thus time
By your word I stand liege to the feelings not awry
Come with me dear in mine plenty view, I wish you can see what I see in such beautiful spews
O flourish fair maid, flourish
I wot thy glow
As I a man, is but my suave equal to your flare
All I wish, all I dare
...to bask in thy Fenty Beauty.

Soone must come morely close for a man as I  of tim’d depression and despair
Ergo mine armour in regards to persist has me not but men of more lingering taste
Thy lord I true to be but to forsake me, and I to bereave, lament and lust
Rather so I’d ought to make amends with my sorrowful part as it perishes into the galactics
...to heave my heart and arts into the constance of stars and ablaze such ebullition of a passion and admiration I canst no longer contain
I shall wayt everly for us to be one for an instance once more
Untold; I know not if one couldst say this to be the elegy or the orb of euphony but forsooth it is...to the Herald of Lovers.

O dear’st Baker Chet,
Thy sound nam’d ‘Stella by Starlight’ be the sound of waves of dreams
What a master in master-peace, a masterpiece that canst not ever athwart the beauties of tones and resonance
Nor like a blare who ears canst listen and for thy own if the musics so touches, it shall to all common man
A stellar by starlight, a song like stella
So innerstellar Chet Baker to be, so boundless thus sound so serene

Sore to falseless torture;
The known winged heart thou soar
By side the gap twixt bodies, the being and the pen
Saith by all that sorrow is plentiful, mayhap more than the ruby
Grown truth such growth unknown, canst I but many years later finally rest
As now not ever to seek interest in tales nor alchemy
For materialism our only asset
To be true to nothing, so true to truth.

“As you know, my past love, Sabre, I’ve never written a poem ever in my entire life of living but I have now...for you. Seemingly, it is the only way anyone can liaise with you. ‘Hear me’...
Desire me fair lord, my king and heart
With the maid of good sense to love another not true
To shew me evils and goods in all one speck of light, in all by god’s greatest might
Without me; think not, it canst not ever be for love this trow’d that only seed
I saith to this man of my godly torch, to alight life if I ever to die
For you there wilt be only me,
But thou art not loveless nor solus
Let the cosmos be thy friend and god thy brother
Soon life anew.

is so the scared battlefield. The beginning and the ending of the heart. And so saith by the latin tongue, "Bellum se ipsum alet", the war will feed itself. To this war, as lifetimes later to end, these warmen, these courageous maids none like the amazons, have fought wholeheartedly without restraint for the passions they’ve cared for, for love, for sorrow. The sun will shine and roses will flourish again like ever. This new age will bring us utter blissfulness and surely a proper burial for the battlemen.

I foreswore to nevermore be the root of your despair
Whenas ever in life I am too weary to stand, I will love at my knees
To all the men who’ve spew’d temptation upon your stances of true romance…
Let I take this draw,
I’ll tote every inculpation
This is beyond the worth of anything known by sight and sound, I serve my word
For I could never half love, like no other should
Now or ever…
Even at the dearth of sight, I will love
In life, in death, space, nothingness, I will love
Together the days will be subtle, and true

Where shall I roam in search of mine most desire
To rove distances till all of Earth I have dolven
Deep ravines, summits, seas, caverns...
Wilt I then obtain mine desire
For if to see in whole existence, how sooth canst any covet proclaim
It is holo, I myself so too hollow
Whereof dost I live for - to request for not life and so life to not request me
Of whom hath left me here to crave, to lust
I am fainéant...
Yet I wander, in vitality
...in appetency.

For this day lay sudden undeathly amongst much life ' love. That if us too beloved bards be as one upon this plane, what greatness hast been to humanity. Shakespeare O Shakespeare, here wilt this life bear our sweetest love? With the spirit of troves hereby truity, what would be of thy rave. I thank thee for such guidance in these arts, more so bestow by whom speakth by the frequencies of the frame. These verses etch'd in stone mayst grind this Earth with goodness. For that even in future, man is evil and his content is low, he hath the word of the bard. To day things be not so slim that man mayst do things he canst not limn but it is by nature his grace is holy. Be it the painter, calligrapher, sculptor, and so the musician- all things lie great for these men and women with anyway they are to be in tune. I thank all wordsmiths of this phaseless art. All whom partaken in the arts fine and fair, I hope it remains a subtle way. Should this form not go astray no matter the one. It should forevermore be for the greater good of the Kosmos, the greater good of mortal life. To beyond is possible by the word or by the sound of tether'd consciousness. This is not all, more is all and we hast yet more. In this time I taketh it as mine. I remember O Shakespeare, I remember thee. Worrit not for relevance of thy excellence, it is eternal and is to be. As thou saith; 'To be or not to be' I in this frame saith but the same, 'of or of not' so shall it be known. This world without the bitterness of poetry is a world void. The verses spew'd by this passion art noble, gentle, but fierce to where no ordinaries canst trod. Only those with the light of the greatest substances of spirit so genuine. Shakespeare o gallant one, rest...rest upon thy crypt. By thy word rest easy and if so the world is sway'd in cause of man's ego and rage I shall soothe thy stone long the crescent moon above that fluoresces god's acre.  Mine thanks Shakespeare, thou hast mine thanks. For us all I'll keep poetry and true lit alive for the greater good of humanity, for the sake of salience.

Among summer so cruel
With heat grazed by the darkest brawn
What sun giveth life if blue or scarlet, need life live so
To name thy frith upon such UV life, such ultraviolet sight
And in UV thou love without flaw
On what corner the street so narrow, the intersected and the intersection
Eyne come not forth, make way for the immortal heart
Parley not for mutual love, thy earn is thy gain
And with growing grief thou spill thy blood in rivers of outness dreams
Lie not in the roseless garden
Be or be not as thy nature thou swear
Be, so mayst thyself is sworn
Lovely love, we canst not ever die
...if we ought to be, in ultraviolet light.

By our means be true...
My love, let us not ever constellate these motions of energy by feelings so awry but espy wholly the constellations above by way of the frame, by way of the zodiac
With both self being visible and invisible,
O are we so sidereal
To which constellation should we deem our own dear beloved, as we do deserve such honour
This fair kosmos is the gift of our truth, and how shall we gage this ecstasy as the scroll of promise?
Shall I kiss you in ways, in places I’ve in much time had not
Shall we rove the waters of the cave of Melissani, and adore the reflection of ourselves as so the ‘Metamorphosis of Narcissus’
By the sweet nothings of our better coitus,
Times whether to rectify our own means or to sate the hormone
There can only be you Evictus, if my evictus
This love I have for you and the Earth beneath my feet is the infinity within
That is all that may define me if I worthy
You will see all of me, even if I am in a universe filled with men you well despise
So I say; this love shan’t ever fold for I knowst it true - as this great span held by wonder.