I Im Sad Page Have No Subject My Subject Swim On Ghosts Hands
The birds of beauty beat themselves to death
Against the citadel walls of hate
Aphrodite swirl's in her cadaverous beaux's arms
In the timeless waltz of loneliness
Its taste is bitter ash
Its stench is putrid
Its sound is an aching drone
Its touch is pain
And its blindness is absolute
I am Void.