The icy rings of Saturn
MY SOUL IS A RESTLESS SOUL; ONE BATHED IN THE QUEEREST OF LIGHT; A SOUL WHICH TARRIES DREARILY, BEYOND GATES OF HEAVEN'S FLIGHT; A MAUDLIN, WANTON TRAVELER OF DISTANT, WIND-SWEPT PLACES; MY SOUL, IS BUT A BITTER SOUL; A REFLECTION OF BITTER FACES; SO, ERE THESE SEASONS CRUEL WILL FLY, AND HASTEN POOR HEARTS LAST GOODBYE; THINE EYES BLEED LIGHT, I'LL SLIP AWAY; TO SULFUROUS DREAMSCAPES WHERE I ONCE PLAYED; TO KINGDOMS HIGH, OF APPARITIONS; FADING SLIGHT OF DAWNS CONTRITION; HUSH, HUSH, DEAR SOUL, THY REVELATIONS; THY DESTROYED ANGELS OF ALL CREATION; THEY LIVE IN DUSK OF DESOLATION-YET, THEY'LL DANCE THEIR DANCE, BEFORE PLUMMETING WEARILY TO THEIR SOLAR DESTINATIONS; YES, MY SOUL, IS BUT A DAMAGED SOUL, A FLEETING GHOST WHO CHOKES THE MOST; WITH PROFOUND PAIN, WITH ENDLESS RAIN, INFLICTED BY THOSE I LOVED IN VAIN; AND ISN'T THAT ALWAYS THE WAY? TRUST IS CRUSHED AND LOVE BETRAYED?
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