" O ends of autumn, winters, springs steeped in slime, the lulling seasons!
I love and call you sublime for enveloping my heart and my mind
in a vaporous shroud and a tomb undefined -
Where by the long nights the weathervane grows raspy
my soul wants now, not in warmed over spring,
to spread out its raven wings -
There's nothing left in a heart full of doom, on whom has accrued
for too long winter's dew -
O ashen seasons, queens of our weather, except the changeless face
of your pale gloom,
unless, on a night without a moon, two by two,
we deaden the pain on a bed of danger " - Baudelaire
autumn leaves and fairy tale dreams. fireflies at dusk. the sound of the wind howling through the trees. walks through the woods. this is what its like to be me. a silent shard of spintered glass. tread softly, dare not betray. love me, wound me. a dreamer of dreams. a collector of thoughts. silent slumbers at midnight. alone. together. apart. slave unto one. in sumerland, there i'll fade away...
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