My heart a wench

Melic murder of pleasing praise
contemt consisting so sweet a fraise
Redish bloom you amble-a ramble
by virtue of my sanity sane
As sharp as pain in sheer disdain
A marvel meticulous your love proofed in fear mistaken,
ill considered it was not mine i have taken.
Eary ground your love forsaken
she took vengeful retribution
in hatred doubt there is no resolution
going about,a lucid conclusion
She does not pitty nor codole
though still a heart
so hearten with pure console
It was not me she chanted to cherish
in hate her love betroth soon perished
Her hate,my love,i loved she hated
my love a line by a hair's coviction
her endeavor savor sterling confliction
She was not meant to love