His reputation preceded, and Nature listens;
Approaches he and haunts her in daily sleep awry,
Those footsteps that slowly enter thy domain do erupt,
Thy hand taken this bird only her wings have he cut,
Feathers plucked and moving closer into her while feared,
The vulture only eats the dead; but my dead shall eat ye,
And so ye alive do I consume ye and thy flesh teared have,
Where lay those pale fingers whose rope asunder heated me,
Strokes thy hair and by thy body remains takes ye afar to mine,
Sinks ye deep towards that horizon conjured the ocean swept,
Lets go while he freaks that Nature whereto Nature does scream,
To have longed for ye, but never found this solemn waste pretend,
Slowly leaves that fall that leave I for thy grave under my tears,
Shares thy touch once more ere leaving my journey for ye behind.

Life, Nature, Poetry, Romance, Works
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