Eternity Is The Sun Mixed With The

Eternity Is The Sun Mixed With The Sea

It Began As Research. I Wrote Of Silences, Of Nights, I Scribbled The Indescribable. I Tied Down The Vertigo.

...these Poets Here, You See, They Are Not Of This World:let Them Live Their Strange Life; Let Them Be Cold And Hungry, Let Them Run, Love And Sing: They Are As Rich As Jacques Coeur, All These Silly Children, For They Have Their Souls Full Of Rhymes, Rhymes Which Laugh And Cry, Which Make Us Laugh Or Cry: Let Them Live: God Blesses All The Merciful: And The World Blesses The Poets.

I Believe That I Am In Hell, Therefore I Am There.

It Is Wrong To Say: I Think. One Ought To Say: I Am Thought. I Is Someone Else.