Death of the Mask

12 Apr 2011

Newly surfaced; buoyant this aged coffin; casket of dread, rippling upon the cascading waters of my sickly earthen bed. It fills and spills; porous is the corpse finely decked in elegant laces. Body of youth; its face shows remorse I'm glad this mask had found demise.

frigid

"Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no...

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