We never know we go when we are going- We jest and shut the Door- Fate-following-behind us bolts it- And we accost no more-.
It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness - I’m so accustomed to my Fate - Perhaps the Other - Peace - Would interrupt the Dark - And crowd the little Room - Too scant - by Cubits - to contain The Sacrament - of Him - I am not used to Hope - It might intrude upon - Its sweet parade - blaspheme the place - Ordained to Suffering - It might be easier To fail - with Land in Sight - Than gain - My Blue Peninsula - To perish - of Delight -
Superiority to Fate Is difficult to gain 'Tis not conferred of Any But possible to earn.
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