The Next (Vol.3) Poem by Az' Versifier

The black plight whence,
I want to make you whisk,
By holding you and hence,
Forthing next, waiving risk.

I swept off my feet,
By living yours wafting cheat,
I want to be in yours heart, my dear,
Can't I do for you the supersede?

Neither a moment nor a jot of time,
Can't see you punished for the undone crime,
Sweep your tears and accept me,
I'll enrich your life inspite an unset rhyme.

Frisk myself! If any thing lefted,
What you get is without heart that you have thefted!