Oh, the infinite sadness of ourselves.
\nThere is nothing I would not do for you, brother.
\nGive me the package of your sorrow, sister.
\nLet me love you each
\nat no cost to yourselves.
\nMy money?
\nTake it.
\nThe cherished things of my heart,
\ndivide them up.
\nThere is nothing I want
\nexcept to lift your sadness,
\nmake you smile.<\/p>\n
I have no values, no creed, no ideology
\nto sweep the street with.
\nThere is no altar I go to except stars,
\nand they are cold in my fingers,
\nlike snowflakes.
\nIt is only you my brethren,
\nmy kin,
\nmy tribal blood
\nthat all the world has to give,
\nand it is not for sale,
\nnot for trampling.<\/p>\n
Man goes his way,
\nI will go mine,
\nthe sea can stay in its basin,
\nthe air can keep its perfume,
\nthe words of the sages
\ncan warm me from the fire,
\nbut those I love are mine.<\/p>\n
More than mine,
\nthey are the chalice
\nthat delivers to my lips
\nall that I live for,
\nmy fidelity,
\nmy oath,
\nheaven or hell,
\nwithout price,
\nthe substance of my soul.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Oh, the infinite sadness of ourselves. There is nothing I would not do for you, brother. Give me the package of your sorrow, sister. Let…<\/p>\n