Loss of Taste

Loss of taste
Forsaking what is ornamental
Taking up the space
Embossed in bothersome carafes
That call my polishing
of prideful sense and statements
In sensations of hellacious savorings
A waiting in remainders
A grave mistake was made
Debated through my days and ages
Inflated by remorse, and more
A devastating sore was born
Contemptuous of my events
I meant it better
Letters that were written
In appraisals lacking simplest of considerations
I forget, and feather tides
Do rob me of best sentiments
And on this ride
I fly from heathered nests
To turgid tides
Where all my arrogances
Airing of endangerment
In error do I swear
Was I malingering intrinsically,
I dare to coat my grief in supple
Sighs
And do I find
I did my best
As reckless and diseased as efforted
In leathery laments?
Worn down and supplicating
Wary of the war that seethes
Beneath the quarreled features
And relief;
May it yet be rest?