SONNET 64

Sonnet.64-How much vain did i salivate and how like wishes were horses doth then thy beggar might ride,If thy blitz blithe sancrosanct,mince not thy shirk,they that barringly and dexterously in their devise and bequeath,pallishly impuissant to moult and will not,That barely do the needful,thy most blockedness,blood and thunder, Being recalcitrant rock,naturewit calls then their bluff,who then jumping the bandwagon van on a cavalier stone,are they themselves steely-bluster and inanimate as the grave,They being bothersome bedridden in hell and brittle to husband the briddlepath's fire and firestone,shot from the mean;Are they not the lords and architects of their kismetic brouhaha?Manifold flocks in this benumb,cant overs in trenchwarfare,but like rams and butchers in the abattoir

the season's roses tainted,is to infinitude unfair roses sticky pleach, But if the edible and succulent that basest mean with infection be sequestrate earlier unclog,then the basest traction brusquely stoke off brutes and the brutish congress.

For where the side in one's bread is better'd not batter'd willest the mind goeth; Camouflages that fester rancid sour,far worse than ailments.