Sonnet - 168 Poem by Xavier Mandreza

Be there Words, or Grief, that one can rapage
Or subtle Chemistry dare would I make
Else if my Labours could withdraw this Rage
Or Triumph by Fossils all dug forsake
As once I submit my Costs to reflect
This Sloth-soaked Chair most would despise
For if the Wise be Youth thus I reject
Then most my Conclusions left to devise
Was it not the HOW which begat the WHAT
Which led me Vamping your Honours to taste
So this your Regret left Sorrows to hat
And this jeering Garasu produced my Waste.
Whichever flew on decided to Nest
And sat our Eggs fresh fermented the Best.