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makuranososhi
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23 May 2008, 12:59 am

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were---I have not seen
As others saw---I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I lov'd, I loved alone.
Then---in my childhood---in the dawn
Of a most stormy life---was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold---
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by---
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

Alone
- Edgar Allan Poe


This poem always stuck with me; after learning about AS and rereading it... I think I may be beginning to understand why.


M.


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Claradoon
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23 May 2008, 1:52 am

I'm astonished. Thank you for posting that!



MissConstrue
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25 May 2008, 2:00 am

That's brilliant.

Makes me empathize.


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I live as I choose or I will not live at all.
~Delores O’Riordan