'Tis Too Clumsy Now...

Am I in thine deep water now me dear, 

May thou behold but, 

Must I not coerce for hath I meself not been aware of meself! '

Tis me peccable self that, 

Cosseted by affection so raw for me and the invitations that art hurled at me, 

And oh! Sweet an elixir is it that is it merely for me, can I not seek the same. 

Must hath it conceived deep, 

Invisible a fugitive for me to find but, 

Must I let thou know for ought is it for thee to heed that hath I scrounged...

Hath I scrounged in unfamiliar pavings am I son oft uninvited in, yet, 

Hath I been ardent enough to trespass for mayhap, 

Was I too blind to behold any entity but, thine presence - 

Did it stand intact yonder! Indeed! 

Did it stand yonder the skyline of early a dawn marked the turquoise of the horizon at; 

Hath I scrounged in lanes so crooked and repulsive! 

May sacrosanct a heaven yonder bless the souls trudging past the pebbles lying hither and tither on the pavings in,

Indeed, terror is it in the ambience of the ones that venture,

Yet, they venture for 'tis the taste of the dark of the midnight art they the ineluctable prisoners of that sinner crawling down the same avenues do they not see. 

Do I want thee to know that amongst the blind hath I been - 

Seeking thy hand but, am I unknown if thy grasp be there to behold me back, and although, 

May I be a braggart for thou, must I confide in thee that do I need thou to recognize me; a

Nd scrounge do I, still in mist of me brain, thou behold, am I losing me hold and art my palms not wobbly but, 

Me clumsy is the branch of the tree hath I sought in the labyrinth of that dark, 

And do I conceive respite on its further end. Indeed, can I crawl towards the trunk, 

Do I need to get just a little closer indeed but, paralyzed art me limbs for will they not shiver, not even in fear... 

Me sense art far from reaching me now me love! And scream do I but, seemingly hath I lost me speech amidst the wood travelled I deep in.

Alack! Me sanity make me laugh at meself now me love for laughing am I, 

And am I probably too wild now that laugh do I for indiscernible is me own speech inside me! 

Can I not decipher for is the tongue no further indigenous for me! 

And is me laugher a smile now as the branch gets clumsy, as the branch gets clumsier and me misty - 

Me sight yet, do I keep staring at thine stars spread over black a quilt...

And do I keep staring as am I blinded... Slowly and slowly...