Divisions unite us:
The righteous verses all
who dare to dream on false idol
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We
Since first we rose from ocean’s active mud,
since fins became the bending of legs,
since legs hadn’t yet the strength,
The Compass
My conscience is a needle’s point
that is thread through the days behind;
To Future Lands
I’ve heard the talk of proof that is puzzling you
On Loss
I wished to see your smile,
but got only pain the while—
Should I Compare You To a Winters Morn – Sonnet 18 Shakespeare Mirror
Should I compare you to a winters morn?
You are more bitter and more discontent