Finish my pout:
Still in silver service, silence for stone
Speed of specialness, I implore to route
A friends smile, to a season of its loan...

Brazen, the tooth of intimacy
Even to the point, of reticent doubt
We are the sigh, of a debacle, ready for instancy
That has come and gone with needs, the many is now...

Courage
And the taint of a maligning lip
So sovereign, for a river of couth's, wage
*** and deliberation's share, in the stoic misery we whit:

Is a taste in wishes with none's voice, for more?
Set in mutual distrust, the music of completion...
Is a hardened drive for poised meager and tumultuous, war?
Of sincerity to fathom the just, the tow of comprehension with sin?

I hate, therefore I dream in colors...
Of heaven with a remembered plea:
Sated with your soul, and the intricacy of what honor; force
I have given not, the heed of history, in the voice of youth to be free...?