Rushed with,
loved with,
died with hatred.
Then the death,
the equanimity,
of hatred,
with the thrush of,
darkness,
with the prinpickles,
of hatred.
Will always lie,
in the innerself.

When will the truth,
will spread over the darkness.
The cathartic side,
of the emotions,
Will lie over bed.

With the weaking of realms,
with the misteness of shadows.
Will cross the bond with
caring for a quixotic...