Only a long, low-lying lane
That follows to the misty sea,
Across a bare and russet plain
Where wild winds whistle vagrantly;
I know that many a fairer path
With lure of song and bloom may woo,
But oh ! I love this lonely strath
Because it is so full of you.

Here we have walked in elder years,
And here your truest memories wait,
This spot is sacred to your tears,
That to your laughter dedicate;
Here, by this turn, you gave to me
A gem of thought that glitters yet,
This tawny ***** is graciously
By a remembered smile beset.

Here once you lingered on an hour
When stars were shining in the west,
To gather one pale, scented flower
And place it smiling on your breast;
And since that eve its fragrance blows
For me across the grasses sere,
Far sweeter than the latest rose,
That faded bloom of yesteryear.

For me the sky, the sea, the wold,
Have beckoning visions wild and fair,
The mystery of a tale untold,
The grace of an unuttered prayer.
Let others choose the fairer path
That winds the dimpling valley through,
I gladly seek this lonely strath
Companioned by my dreams of you.

My smoke will save me every time.
Relieve me of my vacancies that
Inhabit vagrantly in my mind...
Settle down
With subtle frowns
of blatant false complacency.
My smoke will hide
the sadness that I love;
From myself
And the rest of me.
You
can't
see
all of
us.
My smoke will shield me.
Protect me from the laughter
of the ones I care most about
and the ones I know I shouldn't

Phalanges of austere pandemonium



Sheathed by masterful, stealthy techniques



Clasp around my dainty esophagus



Shadowing every ray of euphoria



Mirroring the very image of fear



Vagrantly floating along the edges



Of my harmonious sanctuary



Ruthlessly conquering the originality



Lying so profoundly within my heart



Daring to kidnap the genius that is my poetry



Threatening to intoxicate the core of my pen



The ink will never cease for the flow is too powerful



To be detained by the wrath of envious, literary foes