O please understand
I'm not betrothed
I hold but a gaze of your former self
Caged, intertwined in fingers of shadows
Blazes of night's tentacular posessions.
Be not affraid, for little do I know
that's never been said by whisperers
of yester years
Long do I for a glance of fever
Pale noughts in a starry sky
The fervorous wanderer wonders words of worlds gone by
Must one rejoice upon brilliant carcases of time?
Ask and retrieve, ask and it shall be conceived
Conceited monsters of appalling stature
Raising raisins roses high
labouring, toiling, bewildered are we
Chanting tomorrow's goodbye
Fare well, be gone.
No hot stove awaits your journey.
Depart to the departed
love it is not
Feeble, as I, but none the richer