War Is A Fevered God Who Takes

We Don't Have To Know,only To Be:let Go The Jumble Of Worn Words,reason And Vanity.

I Knew The Poor, I Knew The Hideous Death They Die, When Famine Lays Its Bleak Hand On The Door; I Knew The Rich, Sated With Merriment, Who Yet Are Sad.

There's A Black Rose Growing In Your Garden.

Dance Until The Earth Dance.

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