Godlovesugly
and
life is corrupt,
betwixt and between
my
psychological crutch -
faith finds no friend
fear fosters no end,
for what fix do I forever pretend?

Your smile stays
in my suspense,
what is the worth of
the fleshly writing you
wend?
Your wish weakens
me to weeps,
what is this wretched warfare
that wrests me into retreat?

Repeating memory of the
unwed instance,
the thought plays to a sickness,
as if to reveal meaning
by
shallow insistence;
rip this realm of restless
from my chest
and unroot
this unblest stress
which my love doth
so hopelessly protest - if you've not want
for me,
this must be the means
you've come so Godly.