Nunca se olvida. Que siempre viva*. . Lucy's bitten,. Neck is bleeding bad. The teeth have long departed,. Yet the desire burns strong. . On in desire for destruction,. One on which she'll de
And did those feet in ancient times. Walk upon England's mountains green?. And was the holy lamb of God. On England's pleasant pasture's scene?. . And did the countenance divine. Shined forth up
Lucy, remember. The smell of that fall. The fires of fungus. And the rotting leaves. . I fell off the wagon. Into your arms. Into this long month of sundays. . And you were my husband. My wi
There passed a summer. Where our children went to war. Of conviction without cause. Furnaces in the borough I was born. Dreaming echelons. Above my station. . These corners I walk in. I waited