Monday, December 15, 2008


Ludwig van Beethoven - Seventh Symphony, II

I want to think that if we were near,
Maybe I’d ask you to hold my hand,
Maybe I’d ask for help to feel my Fear,
Or just a soft touch for my weary head.

But there's no room: shoulder to shoulder,
A mighty congregation is already here -
Anger, Apathy, Dread, Loathing, and,
Always moving away from sight, Tears.

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