I found myself under
the dance of flashing lights
and dimming night,
of talking clouds
and breathing hours,
the hands of time
would tick in his hand;
loud enough he told me
as his voice reverberates in my ear,
"Welcome to Wonderland."

1764

The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
  The maddest noise that grows,—
The birds, they make it in the spring,
  At night’s delicious close.

Between the March and April line—
  That magical frontier
Beyond which summer hesitates,
  Almost too heavenly near.

It makes us think of all the dead
  That sauntered with us here,
By separation’s sorcery
  Made cruelly more dear.

It makes us think of what we had,
  And what we now deplore.
We almost wish those siren throats
  Would go and sing no more.

An ear can break a human heart
  As quickly as a spear,
We wish the ear had not a heart
  So dangerously near.

When all the love is pure,
when your hope and faith is full,
when the ocean isn't pulling back,
the setting sun is yours to touch.
When lips would wake you up
and lips would bid good night--
fall as a fog into the gloomy woods
for your love knows no sun and moon.
When the storm is just a whisper
and the weather is just a news--
you are the burn and the shiver
between his pillows and sheets.
--------------------------------------------------------
­
When all of these had faded fast
*I'll remember you as my first and last.

Through the thick walls of this building,
the coldness of yesterday's promise crawls
and haunts me around in a maze of halls
where neither end nor start exists.
No holes or doors, windows and rooms
I placed myself in a game
where insanity blooms.
The days kept running and nights kept coming.
I slowly grew gray and pale
and my nourishment, drained.
I withered to dusts and became nothing
for I waited eternity to arrive
but made a visitor in me.