I want to recite what you do.
You strike all the spite from my eyes, wiping clean what I've seen
Till no grudges can smudge what is true.
Then, I improve.
I want to be minus ado.
To smite the whole fight from my life, have routine so pristine
That my judgment will hug world anew.
This I approve.
The need for your love is absurd.
My skin is addicted to you, friction painting a faint
Revelation of haven, its surd
Mirth can assure.
Your name is a miracle heard.
The din of affliction is nil, flitting vainly to taint
Veneration contained in one word.
Pain has a cure.