You are ice and fire the touch of you burns my hands like snow.
Happiness, to some, elation; Is, to others, mere stagnation.
Youth condemns; maturity condones
How loud clocks can tick when a room is empty, and one is alone!
Hate is ravening vulture beaks descending on a place of skulls.
To-night when the full-bellied moon swallows the stars. Grant that I know.