(Printed in delicate red script on an old, yellowed parchment)
"Arrows into the Void"
I said my pleasure shall not move;
It is not fixed in things apart:
Seeking not love - but yet to love -
I put my trust in mine own heart.
I knew the fountain of the deep
Wells up with living joy, unfed:
Such joys the lonely heart may keep,
And love grow rich with love unwed.
Still flows the ancient fount sublime,
But, ah, for my heart, shed tears, shed tears;
Not it, but love, has scorn of time,
It turns to dust beneath the years.
Y.S./A.E.
"Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart."
Washington Irving
