What infernal fog falls upon the blind gate Not even the wind to voice the lonely hinge-- These are the starred wastes of hope deceived. To have known that distance and return... To have lost the desire to climb the desire to fall... To forsake the regions of banished care to bathe in the diamond light... To have known the silence beyond all longing, the wash of eternity And yet return... I call your name from a blue stair under a wax bell, waiting.Birth sign: Capricorn
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