'I will happily die here.', I say.
'Inside this world of riches and splendor,
with its infinite doorways to wisdom and pleasure.'
You smile at that,
all smug and proud,
as a momentary ugliness settles on your brow.
This passion for you, my love.
Had caught me by surprise.
Fear and hate,
your sullen ill-tempered grace.
And yet it refuses to waver.
Run little angel!
Hurry while there's still time left.
Run, so that you can look back with no regrets!
fade and wither.
Still there is one every night,
by my bedside,