Silent as the pain of memory sounds Rapidly enters terribly lingers that reminds one of Poes melancholy as it rocked

in its cradle a long song When will it end and when will it return? Meanwhile existence continuing A Raven consumes its prey in the night. Oh ghost of history where is the Urn I bring it the Solace of a Sonnet Even the Miserable inspire Their aches, pains, and moral wounds expire for the beautiful flowers will bloom when against the force of Chaos surrenders its madness is exchanged with desire.