A LOVER'S BURDEN.PART 8

Dough is gone into exile and back to the streets she plied her trade.Then at rumpus,she breaketh his etiolated chin.Sometimes,it is like a hoodwink until the glutton dies.And when quietus at the implosion of the menace the llth hour,brandishes ferocious matchet,of this fetor breaketh his fever.And now she breaks that chin and she comes to the fey,down from her fetish deportment.Fatuos receptacle,a fauxpas of public spectacle,exasperated by this exemplar exeunt this scorn to evanesce.Why then did she commence a wailing wall?Her folly a wiseacre that love maybe foolled?Wailing wall wails,for who hath she to dolour her dorky entwines that a night of karma be withered?Bardesquelly,the bard herein eulogises his lines:"Heypresto,he elopes,stumbles he thorns,pebbles his path.Some bruises by the feet,some crumples in boggy swamps,earless madmen,briggandage,raggamufins,runnest rowdy his thigh to make him refrain.Beat them hollow,breaketh their jar at the streams with the long drawn sword .Like the ambient's badger.