saintgomi

. . .From your eyes I shall generate
waters of woe throughout the years
to quench my fierce Sahara fires,
swollen with vast hope, my desires
shall float upon your bitter tears
like a proud vessel, sailing large;
and in my heart, drunk at the sound,
your cherished sobbing shall resound
like drums beating the long lost charge.

. . .I am the wound, the knives that strike,
the blows that crush, the head that reels,
I am wrenched limbs and grinding wheels,
Victim and hangman, as you like!

Vampire of my own heart, meanwhile,
a derelict, I am of those
Doomed to eternal laughter's throes
Yet powerless to frame a smile!

From "Heautontimoroumenos: The Man Who Tortures Himself" by Baudelaire