17


CEASELESS is THE welter of rain that wearies the sky.

Alas for the forsaken! Alas for the homeless wanderer!

The shrieks of the wind die away in sobs and sighs.

What flying phantom does it pursue across the pathless wild?

The night is hopeless like the eyes of the blind.

Alas for the forsaken! Alas for the homeless wanderer!

The waves are frantic in the river lost in the shoreless dark.

The thunder growls, the lightning flashes its teeth.

The lights of the stars are dead.

Alas for the forsaken! Alas for the homeless wanderer!

 

 

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