Off from my breast and fling it far away
Hoping that I may lose it, and not know
Such torture more.... And after wide-eyed night,
I have crept back at the first streak of dawn
And sought about the drifted, smitten sand
To find the blade that is my only friend,
And kissed it when I found it.... Suicides
Men brand as cowards; they are more brave than I.
For death would be so quiet. I should hear
Not even the surges beat upon the reef.