the bootless cringe,a curse upon itself upon this contented yeast,will this sullen earth sings melody that heaven's gate cannot hear?As the lark as the day's break,to scorn mutation flown at the fortune's table.And those dissonant buds that run contrarian the winds,to my navel twice as the heaven's secret emerald pleads,that retreats the sunset in the west from being faded at dusk,that which seeth twilght by day black by night to fret oddyseys.On glowing coal of such fire doth he not the ashes of gaintly days felt,to sting that feeble which thou must crumble so long as the eyes that see give thee a lease and salivation of the marbled dawn.And gilded roses of the sky that leapt with imperial wands swept with golden stones in dingy sun,where statues of obeisance,shall not be overbearing to apprehend nor embroach's roots stumbled with prevarication.To mask his swords over this burning fire beneath a sojourner's eyes,those night's bright sparkles shallforever live in dreary memory.Yea,galaxies of roseating sky!
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