The Sanctuary
Corridors that never end
And creatures of my dreams
That rise up and dance with
Me; people – simply painted –
Who come alive and walk
Beside me.
I gaze out of the window -
There are always four – and
Out of the first I see Spring,
Crisp and pure; the second
Shows me Summer with sun
And a certain artificial warmth;
The third shows me a golden
Autumn with leaves of copper
Crisp; but the last shows me
A frozen Winter.
Being thus frighted, I look around
Me and then I whisper a word and
Finally, I sleep.
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