Die hard the poet's heart
Dashed with great fury against the wall.

Cursing to the heavens,
for sense of it all.

To see the beauty in the blood
 as it drips thick droplets from the blade.

To see, same said beauty, 
from a child's tears upon the grave.

Curse to the heavens.
Dash my heart against the wall.

And **** my poet eyes,
for the beauties seen in all.