My tirade

 For a better reading experience, I made a dictionary explaining hard words. Check at the end of the page.

With a Quaver rhythm... 

I pontificate my love in a rhetoric speech 

I rue the fact that I blunt the last time we talked 

I rue my unspoken feeling of been exigent

I get qualms every time you ignore my presence

Is cursing my name still make you satiated?

You are no longer prudence

You are no longer a nincompoop

But your zeal is still getting higher when you touch my skin

With a quaver rhythm...

My tirade is no longer satisfying 

My restive character is no longer fragrant 

And between me and you, there is a hiatus barrier reek of flowers

Kismet, searching for a panacea of our disease


Dictionary:

Quaver: A shake or tremble in a person's voice. 

Blunt: saying what you think without trying to be polite. 

Kismet: fate. 

Panacea: A remedy for all disease or ills; cure-all.

Hiatus: space where something is missing. 

Zeal: great enthusiasm or interest. 

Nincompoop: A person lacking intelligence or common sense. 

I rue: I feel sorry

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