The Many Mumblings of a Madwoman
She Sleeps Evermore
A desolate field is taken in lavish night,
Unmerciful wind plunders with descending night.
A garden of stones grows in the shade of willows,
And so grows an evil as black as night.
The grasses dance as Death reaps another,
Their horizonless laments dubbed as Night.
The gardener neglects beauties' sorrows,
Countless as the many stars of night.
Garmented in dirt lays a lost woman,
My Alice sleeps in everlasting night.