Inn of Dreams

<SPAN name="22"></SPAN> <br/> <br/> <p>Black Butterflies</p> <p>O words of all my songs . . . black butterflies!<br/> Wild words of all the wayward songs I sing . . .<br/> Called from the tomb of some enchanted past<br/> By that strange sphinx, my soul, they slowly rise<br/> And settle on white pages wing to wing . . .<br/> White pages like flower-petals fluttering<br/> Held spellbound there till some blind hour shall bring<br/> The perfect voice that, delicate and wise,<br/> Shall set them free in fairyland at last!<br/> That garden of all dreams and ecstasies<br/> Where my soul sings through an eternal spring,<br/> Watching alone with enigmatic eyes,<br/> Dark wings on pale flower-petals quivering . . .<br/> O words of all my songs . . . black butterflies!</p> <br/> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />