"XVI. The Window
The house was old, with tangled wings outthrown,
Of which no one could ever half keep track,
And in a small room somewhat near the back
Was an odd window sealed with ancient stone.
There, in a dream-plagued childhood, quite alone
Deep in my dream the great bird whispered queerly
Of the black cone amid the polar waste;
Pushing above the ice-sheet lone and drearly,
By storm-crazed aeons battered and defaced.
Hitler no living earth-shapes takes their courses,
How is everything with you, I picked interest on you after going through your short profile and deemed it necessary to write you immediately. I have something very vital to disclose to you, but I found it difficult to express myself here, since it's a public site.Could you please get back to me on:( firstname.lastname@example.org) for the full details.
Have a nice day
Thanks God bless.
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