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Cast sullenly my line of self submit
accentuates addendum, not as wit.
The vast confront, an erring of God's cross
in tune not with repent, subservient loft!

Ah happiness, thy truth is so exalt
that when error confronting plagues to halt
upon my vestige in some slightness maim
the cost of time's repealing seems insane!

A word sent repetitiously in vain
consumption of my entity, thy name,
invokes a spell believable as same,
that love for thee thus dwindles with mundane!

Oh hear that gossip's ledger, its confront
but closing, as my ear not gather malt
and churn its own ideal as centered hunt,
that acquisition's trust turned to assault!

Oh bear me not this grief, and then ask why
my altar's inhibition now takes wry
and bending knee for grace in lost imply,
forgiveness for the hearing begs my try!

That spell of misdemeanor's focused ring
does cast its honed incentive, all to fade,
and if my thoughts of love were so . . . re-string
thy honor first, believing were my jaded!

Were truth or not, the loss of faith's excel
is stifled by this cursedness . . . love's hell!

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