Laura Furrowed face begotten of me, Nominated; hurt and Blame's trustee. Censured and swallowed by all absurd, Lambasted, wasted hours deterred . Time's relied to fix this din , But so was hoped by Anne Boleyn. No such fate allies with you , My axis relaxes, though pains accrue. Now's the truth dear; hear me out, With fear I fight, with fear I shout, Know this too, this doubt I'll smite, Come here ye end; love's troglodyte And though this day has ended meek, Diurnal passings bring a week, So let those seven multiply, And pass and to that doubt defy, Till seasons gone and leave their flora, And let me stay, and love you Laura.
Aimer
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