UNTITLED: (The Mystery of Hell, or Look and Listen) Listen to poets the world calls us dead and then

see what a mystery is worth you would not want its nullification but find in its mirrors all beauty seen not want of war nor of treason or debt If we are diseased by our whims as thought so is the fleeting of time a sadness but if reasons would need to be outlined if it were not for that anxious sickle Why bring it forward to greet us at will? Why invite all demise and destruction? Wielding of power is evil, so what? --I'd rather stare into abysses full blast and take all I can grasp into hell