Monday, November 19, 2007

Alone... such a great writting for such a lack of feelings


From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were - I have not seen
As others saw - I could not bring
My passions from a common spring -
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow - I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone -
And all I lov'd - I lov'd alone -
Then - in my childhood - in the dawn
Of a most stormy life - was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still -
From the torrent, or the fountain -
From the red cliff of the mountain -
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold -
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by -
From the thunder, and the storm -
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view -

March 17th 1829, by Mr. E. A. Poe.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

...

I have everywhere sought,
and nowhere found,
So I lift the bleedin' bodkin,
And trust the grief deepest in.

The gleaming bodies of the infinite skies,
Have for my spirit, the cold charm,
Of death's welcoming eyes
In secret to my soul, they are ideals of old.

Ad Astra by Arcturus

Thursday, November 08, 2007

Shit happens!

It really does, not kidding...