“
Before the Light
South of the Carpathians,
from the castle of eagles —
from the realm of melodious, fleeting syntax,
a Poet with green eyes deepened in forgetting
gently balances the scale of thought;
bearing the rediscovered face of reflection
from a life not yet lived,
imperceptibly wandering
through who knows what drawer
dusty with unknowing,
in the altar of white nights —
before the light
perpetually versified into the stone of eternity,
he propels vistas of unsuspected longing
...more
”
―
―
“
He wore the memory of her embrace like armor, and though he knew it would not save his life, it would be all that was left to him to ease his passage into whatever lay beyond.
”
― A Mixture of Madness
― A Mixture of Madness