Absence Is A House So Vast That

Who Writes Your Name In Letters Of Smoke Among The Stars Of The South? Oh Let Me Remember You As You Were Before You Existed.

Peace Goes Into The Making Of A Poem As Flour Goes Into The Making Of Bread.

Raw Hatred Took Its Time Making An Outpost Of Its Rage And Prepared For Me A Savage Crown With Rusty, Bloodstained Spikes. It Wasn't Pride That Made Me Keep My Heart At A Distance From Such Terror, Nor Did I Waste On Revenge Or The Pursuit Of Power The Forces That Came From My Selfish Griefs Or My Accumulated Joys. It Was Something Else-my Helplessness.

The Ardent Hymn That Unites Peoples.

Shyness Is A Condition Foreign To The Heart - A Category, A Dimension Which Leads To Loneliness.