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The midst of tender summer
times
Does witness haunted rhymes and chimes
In inexplicable sublime
Of that which was not mine.
The
bosom bloomed and tortured woe
Through much melodious tendencies
Suppressive roles do take its toll
On antiquated efforts.
Settling
ways of winter wakes
To dwindle in contingence
Undying desires drown in the wake
Of trepidation's vengeance.
A
somewhat sturdy wall is tumbled
succumbing many blows
The arrows pierce ascetic shields
If wounded hearts must flow.
My crying soul is opened up
For yet another dream
My resistance has been broken
To an indelible esteem.
Perhaps there is another chance
Perhaps we'll be enhanced
To embark upon a circumstance
For yet another dance.
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