All Has Been Looted, Betrayed, Sold; Black

Now No One Will Listen To Songs. The Prophesied Days Have Begun. Latest Poem Of Mine, The World Has Lost Its Wonder, Don't Break My Heart, Don't Ring Out.

It Is Unbearably Painful For The Soul To Love Silently.

Sweet To Me Was Not The Voice Of Man, But The Wind's Voice Was Understood By Me. The Burdocks And The Nettles Fed My Soul, But I Loved The Silver Willow Best Of All.

The Word Dropped Like A Stone On My Still Living Breast. Confess: I Was Prepared, Am Somehow Ready For The Test.

That Was When The Ones Who Smiled Were The Dead, Glad To Be At Rest.