Finally with a bunch of limp flowers
A heavy plod upholds this mourner,
A fraying breath learns the truth
'Life in analogy with seasonal growth.'
The phantasmagoric pattern wavers
It finds the crux, only thou glimmer--
The fraying breath catches the glimpse
How exuberantly thou gyrate, the true sense.
It's only up to thee the final convergence
In retrospect strained those foul divergences.
