=inconsolable i have heard friends console with the line "everything works out in the end." but what does that mean? how would they know? i doubt i have augurs for friends. it's comfort that's sweet but rather blind, though argue and they will defend; they'll say, "it's best to go with the flow." but that, too, i can't comprehend. =The Reading The child could tell the future, That's what my friends had said; I only had to ask her. And to her I was led. A little girl of seven, Who stood upon a chair, Foresaw I'd go to Heaven And that my heart would tear. I laughed and found that foolish; My health was always fine. She grinned then, looking ghoulish — The last laugh was not mine. I went home feeling worried, But could not discern why. That silly thought I'd buried; I would not think I'd die. My love soon came to see me; He knocked upon my door. But a stranger greeted me, And felled me to the floor. The eulogies were heartfelt; My grieved friends were pleading: They mourned the stab I was dealt, And that morbid reading. =Realm of Endless Winter Blackness vast and whole-consuming Devours vision in all directions; Yet through unchartered night-ruled land, I fly in panicked apprehension. I sense that I'm being well pursued By a severe, relentless hunter. This zealous fiend stalks in close pursuit Across a realm of endless winter. Unseeing and frantic, I charge on, All too aware of what's behind me: A dark lord I know as Emptiness Riding Indifference, his massive steed. His staunch steward Despair lurks near, As does Futility, his cruel hound. For years I've fled through this cold world, But true escape I have never found. =The Moon and Evening Star, à la D.P. Selene all day did hover bright; She graced blue sky with celestial light, A radiant scythe blade white and pure That presided from the sky azure. She'd remind me when I glanced above To follow her who'd shunned men's love: A proud virgin goddess she had been And like her I should disdain sin. Her example I did heed all day; I'll be chaste and tranquil, I would say. But then evening fell, obscuring blue, And winking Venus had her say too. =The Sun, Moon, and Evening Star <h4>i.</h4> Cynthia hung round today Beside her brother Phoebus. I watched that bright lit sky all day, Waiting for sly Venus. <h4>ii.</h4> If I could wish most any wish Upon the evening star, I know for what I then would wish: That you weren't quite so far. =Gazing Out Over the Waters (During Sunset) An image has been haunting me, A depiction I found lovely: <blockquote>Two friends rest on a dimming shore, Together and wanting no more.</blockquote> This picture has loomed in my mind And in my heart and now I find That to my eyes I've let it get — The sun has seemed all day to set. =Lady of Yesterday <h4>i.</h4> Pleasure and pain both vie in her eyes; Her brow wears the cares of the past. Her lips would tremble while she would smile; She glowed yet dark shadows cast. All of her sorrows, all of her joys Had transpired some time ago. She was the Lady of Yesterday — The past was all she could know. <h4>ii.</h4> High in the mountains, in a cave unknown before, A strange and beautiful lady we found. She was floating before an ethereal door; Winds held her aloft with an eerie sound. She said:     "By this door you'll neither leave nor arrive; Only the past will you find through this way. In memories I live, in nostalgia I thrive, For I am the Lady of Yesterday." =Fatalist <h4>i.</h4> A most demonic angel guards me; He has kept me safe from harm. He would shield me from catastrophe In his strong, protective arms. Yet I may have had a price to pay For the devil's guardianship: Whilst from danger I easily stray, Success from my grasp will slip. <h4>ii.</h4> She wanders through the corridors Garbed in shrouds of failure. "Fatalist! Fatalist!" people cry. <blockquote>Or worse, They ignore her altogether.</blockquote> =Little Ladybug Like a little red button, spotted and domed,     Sat a ladybug upon my page. I poked it — and oh! it then started to roam     All over the still blank journal page. I watched this bug on its tiny legs amble     So pluckily across that white page. "Little bug," mused I, "for dear Mr. Campbell,     Would you kindly traipse rhymes on this page?" =On a Day Blanched with Wintry Pallor <h4><i>Sans</i></h4> Oh, for those moments, <blockquote style="margin-top:0;margin-bottom:0">fleet and few, when time just seems to fly!</blockquote> The rest of my hours, <blockquote style="margin-top:0;margin-bottom:0">long and dull, scream "Life's passing you by."</blockquote> <h4>Monotony</h4> From day to day and day again, Not very much will change; <blockquote style="margin-top:0;margin-bottom:0">A friend might call, But all in all,</blockquote> It's very much the same. <h4>inevitable</h4> it's possible that by now, i've lived more than a third of my days, or half or even much more — depending on when i would die. and to this end i will bow with grace, for when it comes time to daze upon that harsh, murky shore, death's bidding i will not defy.