Inventing Pain in Naive Hearts (fill in the blank)

Note: it may not make a lot of sense because I was just filling in the blanks to vaguely correspond with the line they were on....

If I could be naught but the clouds
From the base of hectic life, I would know
peace
About the cries piercing the souls.
If blunt thoughts were inspired by
all I would know
This was a tragedy where an open door closed
And a cocking rooster stopped
speaking as a speachless mute.
If I could see innocence but intolerably
surrendered I would know
About the feerful auras and I could
help
The flowing tears and cascade of
blunt words, the pain
My mind was a sword with no
obvious opponent
In a bloody sea and unadorned view.
I could fill this empty vase with pain
And keep the blood among the unfortunate
Survivors of the wounds, among the souls of their
fearful, disheartened brothers,
cold wanderers.
I could behold my eyes in my unconciousness
and hear touch and feel
with the awakened sense in the heart
The Shattered silence between my minds,
I could hear the moaning thoughts who always
cry silently
About happiness especially in careless imaginations
whith its angelic air.-
So hardly sincre- hearing across the view
To open the quaking doorway below.
If I could claim the deliberant darkness that held
them bound, I would claim what inevitably
stood
To this heavy gloom, I would cry
desperately aloud
crying from solitude- like the windlessly tattered
clouds of weighted peaceful mourning
Or the scruffled burden, that binds
its mate, and defies
crucifixion