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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My love and all that was mine, is obliviosly wound in labyrinth subservient conditions for a sane love story yield My love and and all that was mine is tilled beneath the battle-heroic action remnants. She says, I ought to carry the blood echoing artillery to the line of surging intonations of death beckoning lilts Does she know, the burdening weight slowly gravitates my entire to the earth Am no bearer of fright, but my anticipation of intrepid crush of sovereignty is n'er my lot She lately composes self in anticipation, waits a litany of conquering tales and heroic accomplishments But I fail her in the fair exchange, I present my merchandise perfumed with nimble laments of dullards That she reluctantly bids with counterfeit coins of tears frothing with a vivid lustre of languid desperation. Does she know, am innately compatible with fine eats recipes and love-making ballads. I hold no harsh limbs to swirl her into cosmic bliss. And lo! It's the ultimacy of her obscured fate in my forlorn cottage by the Thames She craves to behold me standing by the watch of the horrific night, wrestle beasts like Achilles. She wants a test of my hospitality with the blackness of the night Does she know, a stealth rustle of the oak leafages send my adrenaline to bedlam and an ignorable reflex. Does she know, a fine bark from a mad dog by the vicinity is brought under clandestine justice with me under a tender soothe of my old blanket She craves for a ripped tummy, but I constantly pride in the gaiety addition of my sharp ribcages to her One-two-three I intone pointing to my fortune in servility like a slave to his master But her entirety flames with exasperation and closely inches as though to mix lips. "You're a coward"
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