Odium


If I could look upon the flesh I own
And realise I take good space

Among the creatures of the earth
Then might I treat all others with good grace,
The veneration, fear and hate disown.
For never do I fix another eye-to-eye:
He is forever better or far worse.
This chilly void bestills all movement, silences all mirth,
And purest fruit a fur of mould belies.



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