Spent

I love thee more today as all be spent to look away in wretched discontent. As whence all hope, is but to circumvent - I love thee more by chancing no extent. Writhing with some validation's meant I love thee further as my heart's intent is flying, always out and toward advent. I love thee giving up possession's lent. And asking God for quietude to vent, my passions undercurrent of resent. I love thee more by vying or by bent conditions, underlying for convent! As in some risk no rules are duly kempt - contingencies not meriting thy rent. I love thee fully, loft and wholly went - Now rough, then soft, ..so soulfully am spent!