deuces
But at my back I always hear time's winged chariot hanging near; and all before us lie deserts of vast eternity. Your beauty shall no more be found; nor in your granite vault, shall sound my echoing song. Then flames shall try that long-preserved virginity, and your quaint honor turn to dust, and into ashes all my trust.
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beauty lies in the madness of the sands, in visions of towering cities with searchlight spires.
i would build you a citadel in which you could keep my shadow, and in my heart there will always be an echo.
...of you.
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