This Was A Manuscript Of The Night

Swinging On Delicate Hinges The Autumn Leaf Almost Off The Stem.

"what Do You Want Out Of Life?" I Asked, And I Used To Ask That All The Time Of Girls.

A Man Who Allows Wild Passion To Arise Within, Himself Burns His Heart, Then After Burning Adds The Wind That Thereto Which Ignites The Fire Again, Or Not, As The Case May Be.

And The Story Of Love Is A Long Sad Tale Ending In Graves.

If Moderation Is A Fault, Then Indifference Is A Crime.