Ferv'r Pours

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The visage of the sky pours driblets when

thou art thrusteth from me again and again

And these driblets turn to droplets, and wed'er

doth be a storm that whirls around as a shredder

Consuming mine heart in an endless cornucopia of squalor

and I holler and bawler at the smaller and the taller

Calleth to the ordinary that I bite thee by the ear

But then thy bite thine thumb at me and I tear

I bite mine lip and reacheth f'r thine only in timeth f'r again

Sand gouts down, glass conceals it from the ale of men

as it flips o'er and o'er, marking each day's passage

Mine golden bosom lowers its brassage

as it turns to stone and stone to dirt that washes aroint

Me thinketh this world hath lost its point

Until thou glimm'r and our lives m'rge like a romant

Alas, the st'rm may only cleareth f'r a moment

The End

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