Goblets of blood are overflowing from my eyes. Who can know the plaint of my striken heart?
The dust clouds of despair has obliterated every path. How can one discern the sign of the end of ones journey?
Those scars of destruction were not expunged even by spring; so throughly had the garden been ravaged!
In search of the non-exsistent goal of madness who knows wiether mad ones have set out?
Just to kiss but once the brow of the candle.....the moths are darting towars annihilation.
Just poem I found in my journal from long ago...I dont even have a title for it....
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