In heaps they were
The dead stacked high
I crept and sang among them
Black was i, yet bent to it;
God and i had shunned them
It fell at my feet
No!
It didn't just come to me to heal its wounds
I will kiss it
It is within me now.
I feel the birth of doom
And the fruit of my body,
Stares right out of this room
The Manuscript
Roads
The Manuscript
And Then You Go
For You
And I Walk With Them
The Distance, Busy With Shadows
The Isis Script
The Sexuality Of Bereavement
Only Tears To Replace Her With
A Map Of All Our Failures
Deeper Down
The Deepest Of All Hearts
The Grief Of Age
My Faults Are Your Reward
The Light at the End of the World
Under Your Wings And Into Your Arms
The Thrash Of The Naked Limbs
And My Father Left Forever
The Prize Of Beauty