Poetry best chronicles the devastation of the heart.
Whether lost love,
or mystical transcendence,
or abasing fear.
Whatever eradicates the man, and leaves the lover only:
alone, wondering, debating the validity of his feelings against
a universe of other concerns.
Only when we truly feel the triviality of our experience,
does it somehow become genuine.
Whether lost love,
or mystical transcendence,
or abasing fear.
Whatever eradicates the man, and leaves the lover only:
alone, wondering, debating the validity of his feelings against
a universe of other concerns.
Only when we truly feel the triviality of our experience,
does it somehow become genuine.