Sonnet to a Morgengabe

By
most lonely,most egoless, most outspoken, most aloof,
Under the indepths of my thoughts, I often found emptiness,
Sitting as serene as the last envied flower on the edges on ime, distanced with patience,
Hope and the beauty of denial are helpless in it's misshapenley abused hand.
Egoirstice as the most unfathomable, foulest beast in the dwellings of Dis, but most tender for the abuse and cold that surround it.
It is a putrecent pest no one else dare follow after.
But like a gaping worm following it's last trails and traces of life.
It will now peeve up at the descentivness or decide to drop it's evil desires and puster up to kindness
But rebel on the ideals of Gabriel, the arch-angel like a child at cheatings way in a game called life.
Whom only love and understanding lucrative in trust can change and so I pray
O all my prayers and all my redemption
to tell it
That it will change, from pity into beauty
With or without prayer,
With or without solitude to the souless fiend...
It will change.





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