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.