tis not thy seasons that it shall dry
but by thy seasons that it shall cool
it shall wither in the blistering fieriness
but shall not move unto a frigid tundra
shall it bleed out, staining all walks of being
shall it stop bleeding, desiccant subject of disaccord
thou shalt not see it, but thou shall feel it
thou shalt not succumb but its deeds on intent
but thou shall run across thy feeling by contingency
thou shall take it, thou shall feel it, thou shall hate it