Regret
Rigors domicile unkempt
that lowly insurrection intercept
my only peace, the glory of those kept
in infinite appease, my cantor met!
That deepening ford, my vestige of days left,
all bravery's surmount am in this tread,
do I of destitute regard remove adept,
Oh, soul of my wounds keeping, not regret ~
The deity of this weeping . . . thy inept!
Copyright © Paula Larson | Year Posted 2007
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