If on thoughts of death we are fed,Thus, a coffin, became my bed.

Sometimes he did not know if he slept or just thought about sleep.

Qui croitPouvoir faire du mielSans partager le destin des abeilles?

...when the petals fallSay it is beautiful and good, say it is well

the worst thing," he told me,"is bitterness, people end up sobitter.

Death stoops over me.I'm a problem in chess. Hehas the solution.

Shine and shimmer my Harvest Moon,illuminate the shadows in the sky.

We turned an anthem into an assignment, a poem into a job description.

Your love for me is transparent, no hidden agenda, no ulterior motive.

Determined, I riseand face the dawn with resolve.This time I will win.

True beauty lies not upon gilded veneers,But found in the soul within.

A mask you ask? Optional I find!Masks lend appeal of a mysterious kind.

Four simple chambers.A thousand complicated doors.One of them is yours.

Rising and falling of the sun confirm Your kingship and Your rulership.

an English girl might well believethat time is how you spend your love.