Suicidal tree, rotten thee seeds,
Serpent syllables of the wisest prophets,
Flying sights of unconscious,
Lament incest of my rag dolls coffins.
Thou thy spirit heard a note as
the coffin's key on Portia's aversion.
As Hera's worst shouts of madness
Thou words struggles my man's obsession.
Bitterness, why thee came to me!
Why his sights bring Vulcano over me?
I through my vows away
On a Friday's Thames' rain.
Why your roughness blinds
thou fair complexion?
My path is the reduction of the absurd
wallpapering by sensus assoupire's flagstones.
As a widow of a principle,
I reject my very Eve, my subconscious amnesia.
There's no immediate certainty
if it beats or hurts at first sight ...
As the river that shares my tears
with Ophelia's rest,
my woman's vomiting verbal sadness
wonders to repair my toughness.
Sinning in conviction as the ass
who comes dressed as the Emperor.
There's not hierarchy nature overflowing
in sleeping adventure's moans.
Too harsh! Too harsh, Foul Lechery!
Hardly eyes precedes the enjoyment,
the huge beast on thee soul.
Too harsh! Too harsh, Mischievous Cupid!
The foul's comedian on popular stage
of citizen's merely players.
A hesitated Hamlet, without being
on love's footprints corruption.
Oh, no, am I now thy Helena?
Or thy Thisbe? Or thy Dorothea?
Wooing a man that can hardly
hear my lyrical...
Now the young cannot cure the old.
Chivalry on torture words;
Agonized Venus in Dionysian verses.
Thee, Sickness! Lady Lazarus's oppression.
Thee, war of wars; phoenix of my depression.
Static movement on Earth's rotation.
Sight of sights, Jason in my expectation.
Raped as a Lucretia's virgity
my vain soul wanders...
Virgin in words ,
prostitute making you bows.
I'm laying on Emma's death's bed
Beseeching thee to be patch soul!
I pray the odds, the hints
on Wilde's Madonna's lips.
Oh, damn tree! Damn Eve's linage on me!
Why thee, apple of my wisdom,
drills inside my doubtless fears...?
Oh, damn thee! Damn words of women's feast!
Bastard, thee, Thames' rain!
Shoes banging on this ladies
Bastard, thee, dreamers' rapist!
Soliloquies of silence,
deepest wound of past sentence...
My best admiration words
in this vain solitude forest.
I beg thy pardon