I Yearn

Have gathered a new storm
Furrowing the muse, indepth

The bristles that play taut
Still, yield not to thy art

Have taken a vow by my bow
To crest the fallen heave

Pantheons of imagery ply
To comply, bumping my wishes

Craving an epicurean hue
I sybarite my rainbow dreams

A moronic opera I conduct
Televising skirt and legs

What fatuous inanities I gain
I gain, a moron by my standing

What beauty remains of ‘remain’
Remains a carcass to my last

To yearn my longing
I keep burning my corners anew

To ensigns regalia to thy beauty
I cloak, all my vastness in

… and I yearn!

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