The falling is the constant

What's more, feel of vacancy is the vibe of fear.

Who tosses us the stones from the tallness

What's more, stones here reject the residue to bear?Once, striding in a priest's rigid mode,

You punctured the yard from edge to other edge;

The cobble-stones and the coarse dream–

Have hunger for death and misery of the broad.Let Gothic asylum be in remnants turned

Where roof fills in as a beguiling tale,

Furthermore, in the heath the joyously logs don't burn!A few here for endlessness were conceived;

However, if your brain has just moment name

Your part is dreadful and your home insecure!