I Implore, It's A Flaw. I Still Claw At Your Door.

Goodbye, my everlasted dream,
My morning ache and evening gleam,
My ever-present background scheme,
My story's shallow foreground theme.

Goodbye, my inextinguished fire;
My damped but smouldering desire;
The flames at which I'll never tire
Of staring; my unfinished pyre.

Goodbye, my night's receding tide
In which I thought I might confide,
My river crashing deep and wide,
My starlit, self-effusive guide.

Goodbye, my rolling English hills
Undarkened by satanic wills,
Still green, though overploughed by thrills,
My battlefield where blood still spills.

Goodbye, sweet sky, my undead day
Beneath which I too often lay,
To castle, clouds and angels pray,
To mouth the words I dared not say.

2000-07-04