oh, the gaze stationed upon thee,
upon I-
tender turmoil abides and
evokes the invocation, again and, again
vacationed vocation aligns
along empty
so unsustained, as kept away
that ill fit folly.
so, see and seen, end scene on
the daunting page
found always, (eventually), as fitful calling
around enough to allow, yet
never stay, it remained.

is id or ego, nor these two alone
compelled quixotic 
to contrive marks upon it, upon thee,
honest, living made and mended.

the pen,
cleaved to weapon, so,
usurps the blade
as abhorrently forbade, as was past foreboding, 
a path alternative to the
tracks tasked- as this
calamity and serenity have
paved.