twilight13

More than I, if truth were told
have stood and sweated hot and cold;

And thru their reigns in ice and fire,
Fear contended with Desire.

They knew at once, like me were they,
I, like them, shall win my way.

Lastly to the bed of mold
where there's niether heat nor cold.

But from my grave, across my brow
plays no wind of healing now;

And Fire and Ice within me fight
beneath a suffocating night.