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    did we rise like christ?
    or fall like judas?
    week to weak
    day to day
    promise to promise
    a hand to the devil
    savoring addiction
    my dry lips have come to close
    my unrest has come to pass
    your body no longer tender
    mine no longer under
    i want for sleep
    i prey for death
    my pain you’ll not understand
    we are the victims
    nothing will change
    only tomorrow can follow
    if there be a shadow cast
    for sure the sun has risen
    and you read again

    the second

  • #2
    We all fail. We all fall. All we can say is that we tried to not bequeath our pain to others and, maybe, did something constructive with it.

    In my beginning is my end.
    A time for the evening under lamplight
    (The evening with the photograph album).
    Love is most nearly itself
    When here and now cease to matter.
    Old men ought to be explorers
    Here or there does not matter
    We must be still and still moving
    Into another intensity
    For a further union, a deeper communion
    Through the dark cold and the empty desolation,
    The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
    Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning.

    - T.S. Eliot, “Four Quartets”


    • #3
      I think you are the smartest man