The high that flies amidst the cries
belies blue dried detention.
I wretch and reach the mention.
The sty my eye has tried to dye
complies with stench of tension.
The nerves before the soaring score
reserved the floor's attention.
I tore apart the heart of gore
with and more prevention.
Pouring prayers to anti-God
the fodder was retention
staring from detention
an even store's ascension.
Soon my time's pretension
could grime the theme's prevention.
At last my wry with tied up prey
could stay and stall contention.
The fray of grey and grovelling hay
(my own and putrid venture)
was quenching thirst
and clenching (worst)
the first and final denture.
I mention this since, trenched with bliss,
it hangs my whole adventure.
The star was spent but won't relent
and calls my better scent to vent,
inventing new retentions,
with multiple dimensions.