Puritan Scaffold Unconsciously have I netted in the puritan frame, Originated form the transparent burden, Which squeezed and tore me, and entitled love, surffering and sympathy. I am standing in the tip of the top of the dissent of crazy and statue. Less than one nanometer I swing would be the Melancholy. The stream and joyful Nightingale I want to come to thee Would you grant a drop of wine and tears to console me, To usher in awaking, the brave new world. No more the hollow, neither the waste Nature is the terminal I am bound for. --

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