Summoning light mornings over the dark of night
You will brave reconciliation while asleep.
Knocking frozen doors with hands ere so very white
Drowned in cherished wells are the tears of your own weep.
If one rejoices in folly and a flower
I should not want at all to spoil a merry day,
Since seventeen reaches elsewhere at this hour
I should not want to be a bore without repay.
Then if one laughs over the tears upon the floor,
Should I not want to cry for old times' sake?
In me I rest a bellow, bursting without core
Lingering away, broken lest it should break.
If one rejoices in secrets dull and tame,
I should not want to part before the guests are here.
Before I go yet, accept my placing of blame
Upon shoulders of my own - your weakness is too sheer.
And if I go, you should not cry, nor care at all
For I am merely an intrigue, and so I find
My run turns into walk, my walk into brave crawl
Noble as a scavenger, blank of my own kind.
But I need more paper, and you might need more time
Still I have none to give, so hopeless we're defied!
You may hear a voice, doubt not the chant is mine!-
Riot's a bliss, into your mind I've so long pried.
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