That which i most fear,
my dear is comeing true.
No taunt, nor angel laughter as the path i lead her up.
That which nature devised has regurgetated, reading between the lines.
How ill defined i am. to that i fear most.
With a fraction of what i told you,
youve believed my tounges new speech.
Like the holly has retreated, though not decived as my actions have.
I made dust a-new,
i hide some cherished fault
i can never love you
yet that is which i do fear.
a fascination, like, something aspired to in dreams.
Had i a humble bone inside id break throughout like glassy pride.
the splintters are thorns for new kind of dust
and i can not love you dear that is what i fear most.