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There is snow on the ground,
And the valleys are cold,
And a midnight profound
Blackly squats o'er the wold;
But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of
feastings unhallowed and old.

There is death in the clouds,
There is fear in the night,
For the dead in their shrouds
Hail the sun's turning flight.
And chant wild in the woods as they dance
round a Yule-altar fungous and white.

To no gale of Earth's kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the thick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these pow'rs are the pow'rs of the dark,
from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.

And mayst thou to such deeds
Be an abbot and priest,
Singing cannibal greeds
At each devil-wrought feast,
And to all the incredulous world
shewing dimly the sign of the beast.
Eternal brood the shadows on this ground,
Dreaming of centuries that have gone before;
Great elms rise solemnly by slab and mound,
Arched high above a hidden world of yore.
Round all the scene a light of memory plays,
And dead leaves whisper of departed days,
Longing for sights and sounds that are no more.

Lonely and sad, a specter glides along
Aisles where of old his living footsteps fell;
No common glance discerns him, though his song
Peals down through time with a mysterious spell.
Only the few who sorcery's secret know,
Espy amidst these tombs the shade of Poe.
Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber,
Past the wan-mooned abysses of night,
I have lived o'er my lives without number,
I have sounded all things with my sight;
And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright.

I have whirled with the earth at the dawning,
When the sky was a vaporous flame;
I have seen the dark universe yawning
Where the black planets roll without aim,
Where they roll in their horror unheeded, without knowledge or lustre or name.

I had drifted o'er seas without ending,
Under sinister grey-clouded skies,
That the many-forked lightning is rending,
That resound with hysterical cries;
With the moans of invisible daemons, that out of the green waters rise.

I have plunged like a deer through the arches
Of the hoary primoridal grove,
Where the oaks feel the presence that marches,
And stalks on where no spirit dares rove,
And I flee from a thing that surrounds me, and leers through dead branches above.

I have stumbled by cave-ridden mountains
That rise barren and bleak from the plain,
I have drunk of the fog-foetid fountains
That ooze down to the marsh and the main;
And in hot cursed tarns I have seen things, I care not to gaze on again.

I have scanned the vast ivy-clad palace,
I have trod its untenanted hall,
Where the moon rising up from the valleys
Shows the tapestried things on the wall;
Strange figures discordantly woven, that I cannot endure to recall.

I have peered from the casements in wonder
At the mouldering meadows around,
At the many-roofed village laid under
The curse of a grave-girdled ground;
And from rows of white urn-carven marble, I listen intently for sound.

I have haunted the tombs of the ages,
I have flown on the pinions of fear,
Where the smoke-belching Erebus rages;
Where the jokulls loom snow-clad and drear:
And in realms where the sun of the desert consumes what it never can cheer.

I was old when the pharaohs first mounted
The jewel-decked throne by the Nile;
I was old in those epochs uncounted
When I, and I only, was vile;
And Man, yet untainted and happy, dwelt in bliss on the far Arctic isle.

Oh, great was the sin of my spirit,
And great is the reach of its doom;
Not the pity of Heaven can cheer it,
Nor can respite be found in the tomb:
Down the infinite aeons come beating the wings of unmerciful gloom.

Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber,
Past the wan-mooned abysses of night,
I have lived o'er my lives without number,
I have sounded all things with my sight;
And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright.
There is snow on the ground,
And the valleys are cold,
And a midnight profound
Blackly squats o'er the wold;
But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of feastings un-hallowed and old.

There is death in the clouds,
There is fear in the night,
For the dead in their shrouds
Hail the sin's turning flight.
And chant wild in the woods as they dance round a Yule- altar fungous and white.

To no gale of Earth's kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the sick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these pow'rs are the pow'rs of the dark, from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.
 Sep 2014 Blue Sweater
Gabriela
One.
The people that crash into your life and then leave with  slivers of your heart as souvenirs are not the ones. They do not care in the same way that you do.

Two.
That best friend who gets a little drunk and spills words out like a leaking faucet chose intoxication for a reason. Tread carefully, your sensitive friend just might be the best thing to happen to you in a long time.

Three.
The 'friends' that treat you differently may very likely be looking to get something from you. Discern what, and avoid them at all costs if necessary.

Four.
Those conversations you find odd often lead to more uncomfortable topics. Turn back as soon as you pick up on a change, you likely won't like where this is headed.

Five.
The regrets you have are the most memorable. Figure out what's going wrong and use the same ideas to create better memories.

Six.
Do at least three things in your life that are utterly insane. Live a little more than the average and you'll always be the one with the best stories and the most creative mind.

Seven.
Go out for a night on the town and have a moment of complete reckless freedom. Live for today, because tomorrow holds a different fate.

Eight.
Aspire to accomplish your dreams, and use the hate and jealousy as fuel to fire your flame of desire. Don't hold back simply because others have.

Nine.
Never let the good things in life blind you from the rest. Too often, people forget their reasons for doing things when something halfway decent comes along. Don't follow in the footsteps of the fallen.

Ten.
Understand what you deserve and refuse to settle for less. Do not accept more, because being overly confident is often worse than being under, though do not accept the average as you become comfortable with that range and lose your hunger.

Eleven.
Create as much as possible, in whatever fashion suits you. Cast off judgement and welcome criticism, for if you let fear in it will replace you with a shell of who you have the potential to be.
Eleven Life Lessons that I gave to myself. Advice that can be given to someone else.
Want some ?
             All I need is you around me
         & I'm already drunk      
                  That's how much you mean to me
                  Drive me nuts out of this world
              ;)
This 1 guy who seems to be getting the swing of things
     My message of me liking him truth
 Sep 2014 Blue Sweater
Lahela
Remember that I was the one from day one.
Maybe not in a romantic way, but
In a way that made you feel something.

What if I was just an idea, or
Some sort of daydream you tried to make real?
It's okay.
However I am not a daydream.
There's nothing poetic about me.

I am uncertain of where I am, and
I walk like my steps are secrets; on my toes.
Although don't get that confused with "lost".
I may not be trustful of the dirt I am in, but
I know where I'm going. Just like how
I may not know the exact coordinates of
A helium balloon, however,
I do know that it can only go up.

So, my dear, as you spend your time with her and
As you write about how she will leave you eventually,
Remember that people can bring comfort but
They are not medicine.
She cannot give you back anything that was taken away from you.
So that piece that I have?
You can't get it back.

She is not the answer, or the problem, or the reason.
She is a human with feelings, and as you wonder why she can't
Understand you...
Consider that there may be parts of her that are no longer there, too.

She is not your miracle, or your dream, or your most desired wish.
She is a girl. A human being.

Remember this, because
This is what you forgot when you held me.
yesterday's pain
could be tomorrow's
grace.

You just have to
wake up and find-out
for yourself.
Keep pushing.
I'm
Hopeful
I just want all of my fantasies to
1 day come true
Of  all the
Scenes I want with  you
To happen
In the next few years
Ahead
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