Wednesday, 30 June 2010

Never the Reaching Does Make

Never the reaching does make
To this inside my being known,
For the fires of the doom come
To my weary heart of all gold,
In this I have been shaken and
Pushed aside like a bean stalk,
Never before was I as much sad
As now and I am falling into night,
The never ceasing blood that binds
Is breaking from within and am I!

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