I Am Careless Poem by Faeo de Lyre

Not in my secret but better friend as
Enemy, hold me now you can; jump that neglect
Not. Slain intil easement and fragile intil pass.
My goin' has b'gun and on; and of my pace
Not clear but wont to valour and solace

Nor though the b'holders made forth twosome but
Ne'er oblig'd lone in the personal and
Yet can but an, thus at the loss in knot.
The mask too is not but worn unto any sense
But keep from the reflection, in d'fence,

Of the face's perspective, the all-body. Thus,
Makes and meets the arisin', the brow, and come
But indefinite I am of the force,
Off-shoot's. What is that quakin' and freezin'?
That what goin' mine I acquaint nor tellin'

Mine, can well. But must be a bloody mark; for
Happenstance b'falls. Let time fly! Whatever
Falls, hence lost is not in all-lost but draw
On more whence the means is an acquaintance
Acquir'd; let not the acquisitive a'outrance

From this bound for there's nothin' lost but intil
Irreplaceable. 'where am I' asks I am
Lost not but that I am missin' but will
Not where I am. My dregs shall no stranger
Like holds any b'comin', like on danger

List but as if readiness; in that to err
Is to inevitability. What a sinew
Lazin'? __ so low from security. But have here,
Swords of damocles. Cries intil this hearin' comes.
What beats the bet? Have! With you, the doldrums

Monstrous that chops the soul each, each; bit, bit.
What comfortable grudge, unspeakable? From full
Stretch, what a seein'? What independence breathe
So weak and b'yond more but bare blindness?
O God out of machine! Would many sightless

Me meet you in that you did not meet them?
Thus, countin' priviledges, who are really
The less-priviledged? This science shall same,
Exercise dead of a thought but must lain to.
Experience, my certificate and afterglow

Testifies what God told nature; thus, have home,
Of a tongue. The careless is but from the natural care but any, great, I made intil loam;
I am big but lost it, I am bigger.
But how do I forgo b'fore God intil eager?