Their spirits beat upon mine <br />Like the wings of a thousand butterflies. <br />I closed my eyes and felt their spirits vibrating. <br />I closed my eyes, yet I knew when their lashes <br />Fringed their cheeks from downcast eyes, <br />And when they turned their heads; <br />And when their garments clung to them, <br />Or fell from them, in exquisite draperies. <br />Their spirits watched my ecstasy <br />With wide looks of starry unconcern. <br />Their spirits looked upon my torture; <br />They drank it as it were the water of life; <br />With reddened cheeks, brightened eyes, <br />The rising flame of my soul made their spirits gilt, <br />Like the wings of a butterfly drifting suddenly into sunlight. <br />And they cried to me for life, life, life. <br />But in taking life for myself, <br />In seizing and crushing their souls, <br />As a child crushes grapes and drinks <br />From its palms the purple juice, <br />I came to this wingless void, <br />Where neither red, nor gold, nor wine, <br />Nor the rhythm of life are known.<br /><br />Edgar Lee Masters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/benjamin-fraser/
