shalln’t the shadows loom,
eyes bath’d in her fluxive jibes,
fresh to herself if she self applied,
hurls the silken locks no where fix’d,
whilst tears chase thee afar behind..
snap thy faith sins illustrate rot,
of all the loveliness you ace,
be wise prophecies sway,
my madness might speak ill of thee,
lest sorrow belie thy nymphs thrall…
of many gazers might lead truth away,
solace does whirl in illusions afar,
inner self thrives art not scars,
for it see the warmth not form,
true to self favor deed not weed..