This Rainy Mournful Day...
Circle of Ghosts
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Fro the chasm of the bosom, bale a hand back.
Hark! my dove - henceforth I bulwark thee!
Teathers of swans in my pillow - I cede my heart.
Make haste! - I pray - respond my plea!
Lo! - a sire of great awe - a knight of
many battles!
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...And of kinsmen weeping for the slain!
Please! - heed my words;
In thy sorrow I will kiss thy tears
In thy bliss I will take thee by thy hand
The sapor of grapes thou shalt...