while the moon shines bright -
i lie alone - with me, by my side.
as i rise, i have company - i realise.
while i marvel how well he hides from the moonlight-
my shadow walks me home tonight.
Nov 20 2001
"Men have called me mad but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence--whether much that is glorious; whether all that is profound--does not spring from disease of thought, from moods of mind exalted at the expense of general intellect." Edgar Allan Poe