Poem of the week: untitled

Should I render it in terms of failure neighbour,
This limerence of sweet joy and sweeter pain
In my new-found days of hellish hard labour?
Merely because of the absence of refrain,
To proclaim some progression in winning favour—
This limerence of sweet joy and sweeter pain.
No, it is man’s religion, it is for this Verliebtheit craver,
It brings both joy and death in the seeking
To proclaim some progression in winning favour.
The lawyers pray I silence my speaking,
Yet such a thought offends the mind—
It brings both joy and death in the seeking,
What mental scatter however assigned,
Gifted in hope of birth and fear of future,
Yet such a thought offends the mind
As I submit to you for laceration or for suture,
Should I render it in terms of failure neighbour,
Gifted in hope of our birth and fear of lost future
In my new-found days of hellish hard labour?