We All Want What's Been Suddenly Disallowed.

Love Is Form, And Cannot Be Without Important Substance

Of Rhythm Is Image / Of Image Is Knowing / Of Knowing There Is / A Construct

The Heroes Of The Present Will Retreat To The Imitation They Are Anyhow.

The Flowers Are Ravined By Bees, The Fruit Blossoms Are Thrown To The Ground, The Wind The Rain Forces Everything.

My Life Has Been Given Its Orders: The Seasons Seize The Soul And The Body, And Make Mock Of Any Dispersed Effort. The Hour Of Death Is The Only Trespass