"O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!"
The Hermit cross'd his brow.
"Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say—
What manner of man art thou?"

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench'd
With a woful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

the comedy of sentences

you've been down this road before...
you've left breadcrumbs that even the crows would not touch...
this forsaken path, you've trekked not one too many times...


is it just you or is it your feet?
will this be what you will be remembered for?
or is this the longest 5 minutes of your life?



slumber for me, please...
i beg of thee, strip me bare of all grief...
and if not too much, show me paradise...



mere mortal, you long for justice without cause!
you shalln't be sated!
what you have been given, you yielded!

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