I swear by your atrocities, O the empress of sagacity. My submissions haven’t and will not surrender, But breezes just arrived from the gardens of nostalgia. Bringing with them those cacophonic lyrics, Which you have voiced to guard my smiles. The sharp scents striked me hard. And my tormented heart accepted the package. My healed scars oozed some blood, The blood narrating the tale of compassion. My barren vocals now plan to agitate, You come and save me from penning a complaint. Else, let me rest in a dark coffin, Where I find an end to agony. They say you rest in peace for ever.
Will I … ??