The break in the line

The break in the line was a funny old fella
His will was away when the love came to town
and in burying himself in the damp trodden terra
His thumb wasn't up and his hope was tied down
His formation of words was a formless as none
His buns were half baked
And not hot, and not crust
The will to awake, his undoing undone
As his ghost was a ghost
And his salad was tossed
So whimsy whimsy, the seed of undoubt
being the muse of all plenty and giving her best
Brought a succulent fruit to the break who did shout
With an A for the fruit being sweet, passed the test
For this marks, how he laughed
'I am a lion without break'
And that break is a naught
Three is no where in me
I'll be eating this fruit on your doorstep, I'm blessed
And this pale full of rain?
That I'll drink while I'm free