Monday, July 23, 2007

Ephemera

Death may be beautiful to a poet’s eyes
A muse more charming than all his allies
One that needs no alibis
As with each word a bard is born
And with every verse the poet dies.

We could pave new roads with their cold gravestones, And wind them through the pines...
~What if I do - Foo Fighters

Tyagi, this one is for you.