can it be my fair dream turn sour? can I be reconciled to this fact?
yet even still my heart lies dormant like a December rose
a buried hatred cast down upon an unsuspecting brow to fester and burn in a tempest of emotion and pain and regret of bridges burned with no pinprick of light to lead me home from this dark despair which has settled upon me like a blanket of snow on fall's late flowers
------------------ "I would rather sit on a pumpkin, and have it all to myself, than to be crowded on a velvet cushion." .....Henry David Thoreau