From: Lestat!@yabbs
To: all@yabbs
Subject: untitled, unnamed
Date: Mon Aug 22 13:21:15 1994

and only half of my weakness
lies in the placating sense of abandonment
I rely to display
upon my loved ones, a greeting, a calling
a disappointed and vanished arrangement
as the lion roars as I speak and
do look down upon myself in

haste, and then a quiet evening follows
may the dead tree live, and the ocean dry up
all the buckets of ink will not prevail
or in fact do anything
at all.as long as no thought exists in form
then back-lashed horrors roam

evening day blinded realness
blinking eyes desire one sight
and premature lust evacuates, partly



dylan....

this poem shows how I feel when I get angry and then regret the words I 
have spoken to my loved ones...the rest is up to you to figure out