THIS FAUST
This Faust has fallen - from his
doomed departure to a clockwork
orange little known by man. The
long, crooked nose, those spindly
fingers, the wearing of cloaks and
scarves, jackets and capes, beneath
the dark, bleak moon: this Faust
has fallen. In the glen, along the
valley, anywhere that dark, ancient
cave beckons, he is hiding - his
fame alone lights candles in the dark.
No comments:
Post a Comment