Sonnet 09

By not novaturient, just an evil god Only aggression and deceitful lies So beautifully, and then so choked lode What is left, my goodness! It will be pies God lent me my temporary nice body Thanked to me, turned into a cute rose day The flower withered one day suddenly Mellifluous life will be far away Who does one not die, but lives for pleasure? Or dirty, bored and painful things with fate Of my own sadness like the black picture Long luminary, the withered love gate So, being dreamy; then weakness or lust No serendipity all turned to dust.