There's A Non-existent Peace In The Uncertain

Every Spoken Word Double-crosses Us. The Written Word Is The Only Tolerable Form Of Communication, As It Isn't A Stone In A Bridge Between Souls But A Ray Of Light Between Stars.

I Search And Can't Find Myself. I Belong In Chrysanthemum Time, Sharp In Calla Lily Elongations. God Made My Soul Into An Ornamental Thing.

There Are Ships Sailing To Many Ports, But Not A Single One Goes Where Life Is Not Painful.

And As Well As I Dream, I Reason If I Want, For That's Just Another Kind Of Dream.

I Asked For Very Little From Life, And Even This Little Was Denied Me.