To Tan a Ripper Hyde

As the receding nestles of dying love in full bloom, now sadly blown away. The seasons of the massacreing tides of Autumn, the soothing winds of change, now gently at bay. As love's decree of passion resides at chamber, felt within the door. To conjure a broom for everyone to hold, peasantry, pleasantry, a harlot, and a merciful whore. There is passion hidden beneath the swirling cosmos, a treasure found within thee. Like the hearkening cries, of Dove's. . . made beautiful, peace be with me. As songbirds sing the beautiful grandeur of rose gardens made lively, exuberant, a splendor of bliss. As wine bearers fathom, the essence of wrath, a gentle darkness, a widow's hastening kiss. By way of coven, be it not foul, and also full of such, a bestowment of blessings, of tears, of gentility. There ponderous, my Hecuba, amidst your poisonous scope of treason, Mars and senility. Conceit upon this morrow's eve, of sacrilege and blaspheme concerto phantasm. Yes, for tradition calls, upon entrance of estate, made unbeknownst, no proclamation of thee, a luciferus ******. As a racing menace bewildered, by the means to wound obscene. Ungored, at length, a mandrake's gesture, bitterness and more poison of undine. Where'll'st be, betaking your ambience, of twilight autumn oh fine. A lecherous Eve, a serpent's wisdom, to set her on, oh perilous eyes of mine. As perching swans upon the revealed ides, of Zeus. Gentle lady, I beg thee, a pardon for the ibis goose. Of thee, the essence Diana, as graceful as no other Ceaser. Fleeting perils of doubt, madness, and glee, what it takes to please her. Oh shadows of temptation, a scurried passion of the Abydos at Hades A gentle Isis, mistress to the Lots of Salem, o'er plentiful maids. Though to scathe a peasant maiden, be it not of chivalry due rotten chaste. The kingdoms of decadence and decay. . . of the morrow, a consent of distaste.