TO HIS FRIEND IN ELYSIUM

So long you wandered on the dusky plain,

Where flit the shadows with their endless cry,
You reach the shore where all the world goes by,

You leave the strife, the slavery, the pain;

But we, but we, the mortals that remain

In vain stretch hands; for Charon sullenly

Drives us afar, we may not come anigh

Till that last mystic obolus we gain.

But you are happy in the quiet place,
And with the learned lovers of old days,

And with your love, you wander ever-more

In the dim woods, and drink forgetfulness

Of us your friends, a weary crowd that press

About the gate, or labour at the oar.

Joachim Du Bellay, 1550

My penchant for morbid poetry really isn't an insight into my character; I'm really quite upbeat. Honest. But I am a shallow bitch, so it takes something rather depressing to affect me in any which way, thus the need to recite classical gothic poetry. I was going to shove The Raven by Poe in here, I know it off by heart, the rythmn and rhyme sort of etch themselves into your brain, but I couldn't be bothered with such an epic. Make do with Du Bellay.

Mwahahahahaha! How I do love the juxtaposition of morbid poetry with randy bishonen! I am sick! *snicker* I bet Mr Du Bellay is spinning in his grave!

In other news... Liverpol is in the final! GET IN MOTHER FUCKER! No big surprise like, since the 'Pool rocks the casba, just thought it deserved a mention. W00t!