Tuesday, March 8, 2016


Saturnine Prince
That Death didst follow from birth
Gazing downwards through life
Seeking that in deepest earth

Silence bearing the markings of time
Crystal tittering, echoes absorbed
The lithe white proteus in motion
Here I am present and unaware

Deep calls to deep
There is no revelry
There is melancholy
A warm bitter sweet anguish

Stirrings, tumultuous interruptions

Memories of what was and cannot be

The broken heart that dieth not

Mania, Larunda, Muta, Dea Tacita!

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