Decadent desirous perception of unaltered vagrant conscious thought why hast time forgotten thou thy secrets? Canst not one be as the heights which come and go as summer nights hidden intimacies- I came upon the doors of realities shelter but amongst the thorns of time therein my tears deceived me the pain receded but to what means? My life as the rose in Winters death but lies sleeping for a moment and with the Springs warmth gives naught but its beauty diminished not with the days end and ever more beautiful is the fragrance within its hidden soul-