hwithumalut

I have been an envious sower of anger and correction When I have perused the views and birthrights of others I have started to attack and send malediction There is no sound, except for breathy wuthers Reason’s fury boils without the final effortful battlecry of a lobster Only inaudible moans, and bitching, slowly sickening in jealous pain. Forming criticisms instead of winning deeds, I, a leech-blooded spinster prick my finger with my needle each time I scold “shame”