Alas! A throwback to ye olde Romantic era of poetry!
Ah, sweet Soul! Don't ache!
The rumblings so near
to thy neighboring stomach
didn't intend to awaken you!
Oh, Heart! Undisturbed, as yet,
please don't pain if you hear
that two such entities within
complain of their reasons!
But now the Mind that governs
is uneasy and trembling us all.
What shall we do if he argues
and provokes a deathly fall?
We call upon you, "Reason, help!"
But Desire overrides, unwilling to motivate
these limbs, these eyes, this Heart,
and all within that lie down and cry.
Oh, poor suffering , anton organs
that once reveled in such sweet delight,
calm, please don't stir and affright,
invoking the invasive numbing devices.
But alas, from beyond our defenses
enters the acidic foreign mediator,
sliding ever so violently down,
straight to the argumentative pit.
In time, we will all obediently react
to this desensitizing pleasure,
to escape this unendurable reality,
that ambrosial anatomy she stole away.
Woe! When shall we all connect
ethereal Happiness with her reality
and exist amongst her breathing organs
to never feel such stark insecurity?
Turmoil rots fast thy addled head!
Anxiety stirs thy Soul's latching implements.
Impatience invades the cavernous Heart
before all set to war and tear us apart.
I spent a lot of time studying British Romantic literature/poetry and the saturation of all these materials had to be purged, giving birth to this poem.