In the glade on parade there she sat on the brae
Blazoned with judgement; frigid glances berate
Beneath crooked lips layed a smile, Adased
Beneath pointing fingers - Impinged - her soul weighed

Benignant her soul radiated such light
Up against scowling eyes she protested such blight
Befouled and Begrimed upon hate; they'd bestride
Her timid heart ravaged; bestirred appetite

Betwixt love and vehement passion bore deep
All cares fell distraught in the winterwinds - bleak
Brindled clouds showered wet rain drops recieved
Atop the crisp flesh leaving ardent heat freed

Looking beneath her eyes left me inborn
Those transmuted chasms - dark, orotund storms
Within her against her my comfort grew warm
Her spirit was deep while her eyes were forlorn

Like a dry crusted riverbed adorned with still scales
Like a bog, warm and stagnant befouled still and pale
Like a mother's womb barren; Malignant and stale
A stillborn bastille full of adipous bale

But deep in that cracked, soiled smile I saw fate
A kismet submerged thro' the soft, velvet shade
Something I saw there ignited my taste
Odin Great Odin! Bequeath Joyous days