Faith assuages, guides, restores.
The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses
What an old maid I'm getting to be. lacking the courage to be in love with death!
One evening I sat Beauty on my knees – And I found her bitter – And I reviled her.
But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.
Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.