sonnet Hair dye and powder

Hair dye and powder base are matted thick
On ladies who assert a certain age
If never thought a subtle style or slick
Yet still a clever cloak of laughline cage
Arriving tired they try and quarrel quick
Against deaths swishing scythe a war hed wage
And sport the thickened skins he can just nick
As codependents none else could engage
Time shrinks old souls exempting limpid eyes
Of water older than the sun in part
From eyeholes they track as if sculpted art
From exoskeletons they customize
They throw emotions off and live in bliss
A vibrant pleasure pure as noughts amiss
Chorus bliss delight heaven