Stella 25 - - Pardon

- - my stella - - .25 Pardon Thy pronounce of exodus momentary though Crumbles up my thorax, Torn my day and night with thoughts of thy glory here and there. In the fleeting clouds and dropping of fount I behold thee, moving careless beckoning my sepulture, In the epistle of my heart I write some rhymes Proclaiming my doom and baffle. Tears flow from inside my unconscious locus and reason succumbs to sink to naught. Pain poignant of apartness of being from being, and incoherence is my contexture. Thou art what my mind dreams of and thou art sole one for my incarnation. O stella, the vibration of my soul, pardon my inability to live outside of thee, Have mercy for my talkative nature that I promulgate my bower, our inner affinity.