Loneliness clasped me, Assassinating my every happiness. Life became insipid And legs... Loneliness clasped me, Assassinating my every happiness. Life became ...

A heartbroken poet, a half-written poem Awaiting insights and completion A heartbroken poet, a half-written poem Awaiting insights and completion

Looked at his unsettled hands, That were covered under The mud of the blood. Looked at his unsettled hands, That were covered under The mud of the blood.

Two beatiful, longish poems. Neither with the stereotyped happy ending. One protagonist drowns in a ... Two beatiful, longish poems. Neither with the stereotyped happy ending. One prot...

Or was the Muse not so wise and filled with vice? Or was the Muse not so wise and filled with vice?