Learning

“Much learning is driving you mad.” And such controversy—
A myrtle rose. My sore imagination, ponders love. And
There she stands, leering—my rearview. Oh the humanity—
To nurture fiction. Such a world, my cultic love—attune to
Myth. And such sulfur—a cauldron soul; and oh, such
Magic, a clover scar. My utter affection, a mere trefoil; and
My utter affliction, a mere muse. Thus aflame, my trance
Estate; and thus aflare, a woman’s heart. The field, a dream,
Pleated in thorns. Such matrimony, tears and pain, aloft a
Web of joy. And mercy, my Father’s poverty, the sorest flame.
Afflux the treasure, my ripple star—entice the vision. Indeed,
Nearly mad, a stream of theories. And love, a weekly tension.
My sore, such the pleasure; and my core, such the friction. In
Truth: much learning has driven me sad.