'Twas Not Always A Labyrinth...

Thou see, I behold thine vivacity amidst thy grey as well;

Thou see, at an hour that conspires to welcome an impending culmination of the utmost of the devious.

Alack! am I not a conspirator of thou for hath I been meself conspired by.

This is a portrait of I am deep a bearer of, and has the portrait been my own muse for long - yet, alas!

What a pity! Must I be pitied for inexplicable 'tis not yet, inflicted am I with conceiving the assessment of the concerned.

Venture may the mortals, the dwellers so repulsive for me for now, for hath I been no less of similar a figure to their sights,

But, can I not venture by meself for am I unable to confer me evasiveness to what seemingly lies inside -

Yet, hath I sinned and acceptance is no denial when surrender I do to meself that sinner am I for having tried to cease meself from trudging past with this audacity to venture.

Either had I clasped me childhood or, had I drowned in the innocence the buds bear that clumsy went the holds for both, am I a mere vagabond, being engulfed by me own futility, a desire had I never desired. 

Can I not claim for cowardice in me for am I not one; may thou not behold my strife, yet, must thee not be apprehensive for will I not beckon thou blind.

Oh, am I so oft blind of what my fate conceives, mayhap, too perished art me senses but, 'tis undeniable that did I let out, the entirety of me impedance...