I Think It's Very Useful To Be

It Is Moonlight. Alone In The Silence I Ascend My Stairs Once More, While Waves Remote In Pale Blue Starlight Crash On A White Sand Shore. It Is Moonlight. The Garden Is Silent. I Stand In My Room Alone. Across My Wall, From The Far-off Moon, A Rain Of Fire Is Thrown. There Are Houses Hanging Above The Stars, And Stars Hung Under The Sea, And A Wind From The Long Blue Vault Of Time Waves My Curtains For Me. I Wait In The Dark Once More, Swung Between Space And Space: Before The Mirror I Lift My Hands And Face My Remembered Face.

Death Is Never An Ending, Death Is A Change; Death Is Beautiful, For Death Is Strange; Death Is One Dream Out Of Another Flowing.

Youth Yearns To Youth, Full Blood Loves Full Blood Only.

I Really Don't Know Enough About The Structure Of Fiction.

The Days, The Nights, Flow One By One Above Us. The Hours Go Silently Over Our Lifted Faces. We Are Like Dreamers Who Walk Beneath A Sea. Beneath High Walls We Flow In The Sun Together. We Sleep, We Wake, We Laugh, We Pursue, We Flee.