writing poetry

since i have felt the sense of death
have you not heard
come down at dawn from windless hills
i am in love with high far-seeing places
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
master of human destinies am i
my sorrow, when she's here with me
when night drifts along the streets of the city
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
there is no escape by the river
the sky
and still they walked on