Lovers May Come And Go, There Was

The Stallion And His Mare, Unbridled, With Arrow-pattern, Are Worked On. The Blue Cloth Before The Door Of Religion And Inspiration.

O Ruthless, Perilous, Imperious Hate, You Can Not Thwart The Promptings Of My Soul.

Cheat Me Not With Time, With The Dull Ache Of Flesh, For All Flesh Turns, Even The Loveliest Ankle And Frail Thigh, To Bitterest Dust.

A Slight Wind Shakes The Seed-pods My Thoughts Are Spent As The Black Seeds.

Alas, Day, You Brought Light, You Trailed Splendour You Showed Us God: I Salute You, Most Precious One, But I Go To A New Place, Another Life.