With querulous turpitude, I stood Disdainful denied reassurance; Selfless. My crying heart The echo of the wind rebuking All that is remaining of what I used to be. Grotesque deformities my reflection The pain of pure love etched In dreams of aeons passed. Hideous beauty a frightening peace A sweetness I founded corrupt; Hell my heaven My paradise. Honesty a musical once writhing in my breast A seraph convoking legions, Now wings out-stretched I break my own treacherous heart A fiend of Heaven a demon of Hell The first fallen Unto likeness absolved The pennated breadth of twilight Breeding familiarities contempt- I have wearied myself, O God, And I am consumed, Resolute of inequity. He that is down need not fear plucking, Experience is the teacher of fools And a gentle lie turneth away inquiry: If the mountain will not go to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain; The nakedly wan mantic Velleity to tear Christ's body Malapert, before the ruddy shoal; Society covers a multitude of sins Within the penitent sanctity of Heaven's holocaust, in which No man can serve two masters- Oh that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest Eternal and absolute, An angelic image of my shadowed self!.