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He spits on the face of the gods;
And still they sing his songs
Our stories; tears and hurt,
Are fodder for his craft.
What we whisper in shame,
He sings his way to fame.
Many men are born,
But forgotten once...

Standing at a cliff’s edge
Far into the sea I see
The ancient breeze drawing close
Rippling the bare sea
Gently it stings my eyes
Swooshes over me with grace
With the sound of a howling wolf-
And the scent of salt and...

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound...

Words, words, I play with words
hoping that some combination—
even a chance combination—
will say what I want.
What's left unsaid
will always find a way
to scream.

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as...

Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her...

And when I’m high
Like the sky
I can’t help but ponder
Is it luck
Or is this it
And when I sink
To the very depths below
Still, I ponder
Is it a phase
Or is this it?

Pity me not because the light of day
At close of day no longer walks the sky;
Pity me not for beauties passed away
From field and thicket as the year goes by;
Pity me not the waning of the moon,
Nor that the ebbing tide goes...

Ecstatic bird songs pound the hollow vastness of the sky with metallic clinkings— beating color up into it at a far edge,—beating it, beating it with rising, triumphant ardor,— stirring it into warmth, quickening in it a spreading...

Come live with me, and be my love;
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks
By...

What days are these?
Where the gods walk amongst us
Is it a shame to them
Or vain glory to us
When they muddle themselves
The trivialities of mere mortals!

Like a hunter pursuing a mystical beast of yore
thus i pursued thy heart
to the ends of the earth
unyielding my resolve.
But unlike the Phoenix
our love shall never rise from the ashes
for it never was
and never...