The Test
The Test
A tortured faltering shell I clutch
The heart of radiant night to tread
By vain fingertips untouched
Rare is dark's disheveled head
The pungent stench of sweet decay
Night succumbs with a bitter taste
Must such a delicacy waste?
Or else a ravished heart indulge?
A collar stiff and buttons firm!
As the river laughes in its drunken fits
To all dreams, shameless, boast confirmed!
How often have I lain within
With dust's affinity to dust!
Merciful Lord, my eternal fate
Pray seal from insistent beckoning rust!
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