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There are moments of despair that come sometimes, when night sets in and a white fog presses against the windows. Then our house changes its shape, re...more

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Raise from your bed of languorRaise from your bed of dismayYour friends will not come tomorrowAs they did not come todayYou must rely on yourself, the...more

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But one wants the idea of Death, you know, as something large and unknowable, something that allows a person to stretch himself out. Especially one wa...more

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Love is not love that wounded bleeds And bleeding sullies slow. Come death within my hands and I Unto my love will go.

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Prate not to me of suicide, Faint heart in battle, not for pride I say Endure, but that such end denied Makes welcomer yet the death that's to be died...more