That Was When The Ones Who Smiled

There Is A Sacred, Secret Line In Loving Which Attraction And Even Passion Cannot Cross.

As The Future Ripens In The Past, So The Past Rots In The Future -- A Terrible Festival Of Dead Leaves.

A Loss, But Who Still Mourns The Breath Of One Woman, Or Laments One Wife? Though My Heart Never Can Forget, How, For One Look, She Gave Up Her Life.

I Have Long Had This Premonition Of A Bright Day And A Deserted House

I Seem To Myself, As In A Dream, Am Accidental Guest In This Dreadful Body.