Hateful ignobility wrought upon us these
Blissful fragments of tormented peace.
What shall be said, to our high priest,
"King!" Amassed before the lowly beast.
Unfiltered foolishness rid us our dream
"Avaunt! There is no place for you to bring."
Wherefore betwixt the serpent's gaze malicious,
Bloomed a thousand vibrant fruit precocious?
Anon I cast this body ablaze, amaze!
No ceasing tongue could me more grace.
Writhing agony upon the stakes makes
Not a sight inticing of my craves.
Heresy upon heresy, to dare invade
This earthly domain we've made.
The fig tree bears no fruit, thus let it
Be jilt upon the basket we knit.
Still are adored these little green branches,
And their pink buds, yet undone, too, matches.
This twilight over the hill, dusks before dark,
This half light erelong, stars unmarked.
Forsooth the answer ought come, but
Wilt it be made known to such a mutt?
Curtains will close, roses will wither,
Wherein will we know to go thither?
This mud, tis cold. This grass, tis old.
And there's nothing else in sight.
I've been reading~