I never told my wishes
But let my concealment,
like a furnace of fury,
feed on my eyes riveted
by ire and impudence;
I eternally pined in thought,
And with a blue and gray melancholy
I sat like Longing on a pew,
smiling at Grief and teardrops
welled in the windows of my soul.
No other Gods listened to my pleas;
No other Sun lit up my heaven,
No other star ever shone for me.
And even yet, I dared not let
my useless passion and vain hope
languish in rapturous, radiant pain;
Drinking deep of that profound anguish,
How could I find my place again?

Draw the Moon

The sky is howling in the twilight

As the chariot of the moon flies;

She hears her fate that she wants not

Thru the rustling leaves and grass

Swaying in the wind of the chariot

And draws the moon from the seat

To take back her unwanted future.