Bear Me Peace

Times of trial pervade my spirit,
even after an inordinately vivacious hour,
When time reaches me of their palpable sadness.
Upon their countenance which oft bears a shade of
low cunning, boasted wisdom and profuse perplexity,
now an impromtus melancholy veil.
Times of trial pervade my spirit,
after attempts of distempered ideality, successed.
A happines so sulfureously strived.
A disease of settled apathy contains them,
and pricks me with emaciated hands,
once accompanied by my affection now
bear the hollow irons,
quickly manipulated by the right blade.
Times of trial pervade my spirit
even after successed happiness is evident.
They must
Cut their chains
Break the bonds,
Bear me peace,
Leave me free.