I Am The Wilderness Lost In Man.

Yet Not With All Of Me Am I In Love. Too Much Of My Own Quietness Is With Me.

For Death Is Life. It Is Only Living That Is Lifeless.

Each Day I Live In A Glass Room Unless I Break It With The Thrusting Of My Senses And Pass Through The Splintered Walls To The Great Landscape.

The Earth Swirls Down Through The Ominous Moons Of Preconsidered Generations.

Oh How I Hate People!