Alas for mine, if not for mine;
These words that steep beneath the flesh,
Whose greater decree motions me away,
Fair is that I once sought lest envied,
Pity, for only fewer words harm than many better,
Kissed the sound uttered and breathes another;
Has left alone himself, the road ahead,
Shall I be content with my own company?
As cold my hands the ice berg founded,
Numb whence the waled skin doth pulse,
Once the heat that crawls away,
There the waves that shatter the caps;
Long we walk while not knowing how so,
Then sat at the yoke of the Universe
To have their words answered, but only silent;
Walks again, and soon finds himself under,
The passage once light and now darken
Thus it begins, and soon towards the crust.
Their last breath long gone, but the vapour
But the final bubble that flies, at least so;
Shall ripple through the waves that I know
Touch me again, his last movement remade.

Mysterious, Nocturnal, Poetry, Romance, Works
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