Jin

A cold dew settled 'er weathered face,

and long since they knew o'doting or such taste;

was a long fought look,

a trove found hence when note!

A'jin o' iv'ry cast glares up at orbs deep in this bloke,

dwelling deep n'weary souls;

quickening stride to rapt at endmost,

'jin most serous plateau.

Incessant echoes keeps the dreary past,

usher 'bout such jouissance;

without is pining such abide,

is a better quietus when all aside!

Dotage, a joie de vivre

Bold the years, heaven contemplates;

sempiternal paramour awaits.

Ramblings of Poe