Granite, crayon, fresh roses ...
A head long leap
into an ancient hall of mirrors.
My words bounce against infinity's door:
So this is The End
I've envisioned it in my dreams.
You and I
Your generation and mine
When had this dream stopped?
At what exact moment was pain's
torch passed?
I misjudged the sweltering heat
How did you manage?
Oh, I see
Silence ...


Jim Morrison: Stone Immaculate

Patricia DeVaux