Death
With the full moonlight, after the clouds, dark
stem with your wings all cover.
Infinite detestable death, with your sword open a path between darkness and endless,
by harvesting this season still more, stopping behind you an abominable torrent.
Your full wake of ache, single to marked which the destiny,
in with your mysterious argument has conceded you as labor.
I have seen you to the eyes and have challenged you,
with my poor misery your house have profaned.
for all that, your tempting breath, your sensual invitation,
has not bended me, but has converted my blood in sweat
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