To Sculpt The Stars

The barren plane, hushed and vast The arrow flies and must be passed The stage of contest, endless night The dark undone in curtains flight Threads of thought, like gold out-spun Threads of thought, to braid the sun To sculpt the stars, like wetted clay To hold the seasons, one must pay Coinage flowing—slick and red… Continue reading To Sculpt The Stars

An Inhabitant Of Carcosa (1886)

For there be divers sorts of death -- some wherein the body remaineth; and in some it vanisheth quite away with the spirit. This commonly occurreth only in solitude (such is God's will) and, none seeing the end, we say the man is lost, or gone on a long journey -- which indeed he hath;… Continue reading An Inhabitant Of Carcosa (1886)