Like a fiend in a cloud With howling woe, After night I do croud, And with night will go; I turn my back to the east, From whence comforts have increas'd; For light doth seize my brain With frantic pain. -Mad Song by William Blake #poetryposting
⋆⁺‧₊☽ A lovely poem...!! I mean, um... th' words aren't tha' nice, but-- it jus' sounds nice t' read... y'know? ☾₊‧⁺⋆
No, it is a lovely poem. It's about a less than lovely thing, but Blake was very talented at painting everything with a beautiful brush.
⋆⁺‧₊☽ Indeed so!! Maybe I should look int' some human poetry, yes? ☾₊‧⁺⋆
Of course! Robert Louis Stevenson has a lovely array of poetry, as does Walt Whitman. Emily Dickinson, of course is a lovely poetess, and an acclaimed slightly more modern author Toni Morrison put out a book of poetry as well. There's also of course Edgar Allan Poe for darker, but no less wonderful poetry.
⋆⁺‧₊☽ I see...!! 'll note these down f'r later! Thank you kindly...! ^^ ☾₊‧⁺⋆