In the quest for shudders I was as the absence
melted in my hand
As clear as my gleaming
sorrow
A spectral fascination
For irony to serve
are the glorious
those who triumph
in a kingdom of
eternity?
...a castle of sand
whose
roof has sheltered my
I sense "the absence
of triumph and lust
abruptly rising to
cover the glory in sand"
A whore
gave birth to the flies
...who flew away
with my beauty
A virgin gave birth to my
masks
I simulate the absence
"To enter a kingdom of
flesh - a ghastly
worn shadow
A fiery picture of poet in
hel"
Forlorn I was as poets should
be
I am as chosen as the weaver himself.
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